


We Can Find Our Way Somehow

by MoniqueMcCartney



Category: John Lennon/Paul McCartney - Fandom, McLennon - Fandom, The Beatles
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Drugs, Fluff, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sex, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 93
Words: 280,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23649193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoniqueMcCartney/pseuds/MoniqueMcCartney
Summary: John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
Relationships: John Lennon & Paul McCartney, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 666
Kudos: 532





	1. TWO GREAT MINDS MEET

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter our two heros meet.

“I’m working late tonight, boys. But Mr. Maxwell will be there tonight to look after you both.” Jim McCartney handed Mike his coat when he said those words. They were getting ready to go to school. Paul’s heart froze. “But dad, I’ll turn 15 in two weeks time, I can look after Mike, we don’t need a babysitter.”

But he knew his pleading was in vain. Ever since his mother died, leaving an 8-year old Paul and a 5-year old Mike with a father who needed to work a lot of overtime just to be able to make ends meet, Jim McCartney had hired a babysitter for his two boys. Sometimes auntie Millie or auntie Jin would look after the motherless McCartney boys. And Paul liked that; they brought love, warmth and laughter to the house, although they couldn’t replace his mother.

Paul had loved his mother. Deeply. She had been so loving and caring, always waiting for her boys to come home from school with a cup of hot steaming tea, a warm hug and a kiss. And she had such high hopes for him. Called him her beautiful, talented, intelligent boy. And he wanted nothing more than to please her and make her happy. Her sudden death had left Paul sad, lonely and bewildered. Now he came home to an empty, cold house, with his little brother in tow, alone until his dad would come home from work. 

His father tried very hard to be there for him and Mike. Unlike most widowed men of his generation, he didn’t send his sons away to be raised by an aunt. He wanted the three of them to stay together, and raise his sons by himself, even if that meant that after school the boys would be alone in the afternoon. But he didn’t want to leave his young sons alone in the evening when he had to work late. Sometimes his sisters came around to take care of Paul and Mike, but they weren’t always available to look after his boys.

It had worried him a lot and one day he talked about his worries with Mr. Maxwell, a single man who lived a few houses further down on Forthlin Road. He offered to babysit Jim’s boys when Millie or Jin couldn’t make it. Jim had hesitated, because he didn’t know Mr. Maxwell very well and he didn’t really have the money to pay for a babysitter. But when Mr. Maxwell said he wouldn’t be asking any money, that he would be happy to have some company at night and that taking care of the boys would give him something to do, Jim had accepted the offer.  
  
“Dad, please, we really don’t need Mr. Maxwell looking after us. I’m old enough to look after Mike and myself” Paul tried again. “Paul I’ve told you so many times before, I’m not going to leave you boys alone at night until you’re sixteen. Besides, Mr. Maxwell likes to come over. It gives him something to do at night. And he doesn’t ask any money for it. It just makes me feel better knowing there’s somebody looking after you both. Now get your coat or you’ll be late for the bus.”

Paul knew there was no fighting his dad over this. He sighed as he left the house with Mike. They caught the bus in seconds flat. And as he sat down, looking out of the window as the bus drove off, he thought: “of course Mr. Maxwell likes to come over. And dad might not be paying him, but I am. I’m paying him big time”. He ran his hand through his nearly black hair, his big hazel eyes focusing on his little brother. He knew he had to endure Mr. Maxwell tonight. For Mike’s sake. He would do everything to keep Mike safe. And at least he would have a little time to play his guitar before Mr. Maxwell would come to their home. He loved his guitar, he could tell his guitar everything, it was his confidante in a world where he really needed a friend to share his sorrow with. With a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, he looked out of the window, as the bus drove through the drizzle of a grey Liverpool, on his way to school, to the Liverpool Institute.

***

John walked out of the door at Menlove Avenue. “Glasses John!” Mimi shouted when she noticed he wasn’t wearing them. Grumbling he took the hated glasses out of his pocket and put them on his aquiline nose.

Today was going to be his first day at his new school. His old school, the Quarrybank Grammar School, had to close its doors. The roof was leaking, the heating didn’t work and the toilets were constantly clogged. And since there was no money for the repairs, they decided to close the school and divide the pupils over other Liverpudlian schools. Now John had to take a long bus ride. And he hated busses. Luckily Pete and Colin were assigned to the same school, so they could ride the bus together.

John waved as he spotted Pete coming out of his house across the street. And after joining Colin, who just came around the corner, the three 16-year old young men walked to the bus stop to catch their bus.

John loosened his school tie. If the Quarry Bank Grammar school tie had been horrible, this one was even worse. “You look really stupid with that awful tie” he told Pete, “it makes you look like a sissy-boy”. “Speak for yourself, Lennon” Pete replied. “I guess we will get used to it” Colin said. “I will never get used looking like a sissy-boy” John grumbled. “I can’t wait to get home this afternoon and get rid of this stupid uniform, put on my drainies and play some rock ‘n roll.”

As they sat down in the bus, John was looking out of the window, thinking how horrible his life was. Living with his aunt who didn’t understand that all he wanted was to be a rock ‘n roll star. No scratch that. Not just any rock ‘n roll star. He was going to be the greatest rock ‘n roll star of Liverpool. No scratch that. The greatest of England, the UK, the whole bloody world! He was a rock ‘n roll genius, but no-one seemed to notice that, certainly not his aunt. She repeatedly told him “it’s all good and well playing the guitar John, but you’ll never make a living out of it”.  
  
John ran his hand through his auburn hair and with a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, he looked out of the window, as the bus drove through the drizzle of a grey Liverpool, on his way to school, to the Liverpool Institute.

***

As Paul climbed the steps towards the entrance of the Liverpool Institute. Mike, trying to keep pace with his older brother, kept chattering about his upcoming English literature test today. Paul had helped him with his homework yesterday. It was Mike’s first year at the Liverpool Institute and he was having a little trouble keeping up with some subjects. He was a clever kid, but not nearly as clever as Paul, who was in the top of most classes. Luckily for him Paul was always more than willing to help him study and would explain things over and over again until Mike understood. As a result he felt confident about his test today.

As they entered the large entrance of the impressive building with the Roman pillars, their ways parted and Paul wished Mike good luck on his test. “I think it’s gonna be a walk in the park after all your help yesterday, Paul” Mike said, flashing his brother a big, grateful smile. “See you later!”

Paul watched his little brother walk away and kept watching him until he was out of sight. He then dragged his feet towards his own classroom. Maths, his least favorite subject. Not a good start of the day that, Paul knew, was bound to end even worse. Well, nothing to be done about it. And with a big sigh Paul entered the classroom.

***

John looked at the impressive building in front of him. Roman pillars and steps leading up to the immense front doors. It looked like a Roman temple. Not that he’d ever seen a Roman temple, but it looked like he imagined a Roman temple would look like. Quite a change from the worn down buildings from his old school. He climbed the steps together with Pete and Colin, while they looked at the other boys entering the school. “They all look rather smug and serious, don’t they” John said as he turned to his friends. “Not to worry though, Johnny’s on the case. We’ll soon show them how to have fun!” Pete and Colin laughed as John’s face showed a wicked grin and the three young men entered the building through the doors at the top of the stairs.

Once inside, they saw boys of all ages neatly and quietly walking along the corridors; no running, no shouting, no fooling around. Just lines of law-abiding boys and young men walking to their classrooms, just softly speaking to each other. “Hey kid”, John stopped one of the boys, who looked up to John with anxious eyes. “What’s your name, kid” John demanded.

“Eh, George” the skinny boy answered. “Well, eh George, can you tell me how to get to the classroom of Mr. Klein. He teaches Maths. I’d rather skip that lesson, I hate Maths, but I guess I’ll better introduce myself to him on my first day”. The boy called George gave him the directions to mr. Klein’s classroom and hurried away. John, Pete and Colin strolled through the corridors and up the stairs until they reached the right classroom. 

As he entered John saw a room full of curious faces looking at him. Mr. Klein, an enormous man with a voice like thunder, showed him his desk and asked him his name. “Well Mr. Lennon, let’s see what you’ve learned at that lousy school of yours”. John had never paid much attention at Maths; it was his least favorite subject after all. And as Mr. Klein started to question him about things he was sure he never ever heard of, he sighed deeply. Not a good start of the day.

***

Paul tried to pay attention to what Mr. Weiss, his Maths teacher was explaining. He found it very difficult to concentrate on what the tiny, older man with the squeaky voice and round glasses that stood on the very end of his nose, was saying. He was a nice man, Mr Weiss, but Paul didn’t like Maths very much and his mind kept wandering to what would happen later that day, when he was at home with his brother and Mr. Maxwell. How he wished he could make his dad see that they didn’t need a babysitter anymore. How he wished there was someone who he could confide in, talk to, share his problems with. But no, he had to carry that weight all alone.

Suddenly the classroom door flew open and Mr. Klein, one of the other Maths teachers, entered. “Mr.Weiss” his thundering voice disturbing the silence, ‘I’ve got a new pupil for you. It’s one of those new lads from Quarry Bank Grammar School. I’m not sure what they were teaching those boys, but it sure wasn’t Maths! He’s at least 2 years behind, so I think he’s better off in this class”.

Paul looked up to see Mr. Klein standing next to Mr. Weiss. They looked like David and Goliath. “Okay Mr. Klein” Mr. Weiss squeaked, “what’s his name?” “Lennon, John Lennon”, Mr. Klein’s loud voice made Mr. Weiss wince. Paul’s eyes wandered over to the new boy. His heart skipped a beat. He didn’t know why. The boy, more like a young man, had auburn hair in a perfect Elvis hairdo, a strong aquiline nose and a wicked grin on his thin lips. He looked around the classroom in a fearless, haughty way.

His eyes stopped at Paul’s face and his eyes suddenly seemed to open a little wider. Paul felt himself blush a little and quickly stared at his hands. When he looked up again he saw John’s eyes were still fixed on him. Their eyes met and there was a strange feeling in Paul’s stomach. It wasn’t a scary feeling. It wasn’t a bad feeling. It was a comforting, warm feeling. A feeling of belonging, like he had known this young man, John, all his life.

He saw a smile cross John’s face and looked down at his hands again. What on earth was happening to him? And then, suddenly, John sat at the desk next to him; it was Ivan’s desk, but he wasn’t at school today. Tucked up in his bed with the flu. Damned Ivan! “So what’s your name?” a nasal voice beside him asked. Paul looked up from his hands that were playing anxiously with his pen. Softly he said his name “Paul, Paul McCartney”.

***

John couldn’t answer any of the questions Mr. Klein asked him. He was very, very sure he’d never heard any of these terms before at the Quarry Bank High School. They must have a complete different Maths terminology at the Liverpool Institute. Mr. Klein barked at him. At least it seemed to John like he barked. He even looked like a dog. A bulldog. “Didn’t they teach you anything at that lousy school of yours or are you just plain stupid?” Next thing John knew he was dragged to his feet and shoved out of the classroom. Mr. Klein walked him to another classroom, where he was introduced to a tiny man with a squeaky voice.

A room full of young boys, a good two years younger than him, he guessed, looked up at him. His eyes wandered around. Suddenly his eyes stopped at the most beautiful face he’d ever seen. Nearly black hair in a perfect Elvis hairdo, a sweet little nose, full sensual lips, and his eyes…..big doe eyes with amazingly long eyelashes and perfect eyebrows……  
  
The boy blushed a little when he noticed John’s eyes on him and looked down. So sweet! God, what was he thinking? John gave himself a mental shake. It’s a boy for heaven’s sake! But then the boy looked up again and their eyes met. John felt a warm feeling spread across his body. A feeling of recognition, a feeling of belonging. A feeling that told him that this beautiful creature was going to be very special for him. And as he sat down at the empty desk next to this gorgeous young man and asked his name, the soft melodious voice saying “Paul, Paul McCartney” made him feel butterflies in his stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave comments!


	2. TOO MUCH RAIN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Their first day at school. And the next day Paul's not there.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

After Maths, Paul was off to his English class. Now that was a school subject he liked a lot. And his teacher, Mr. Durband (or “Dusty”, the nickname given to him by his pupils), was Paul’s favourite teacher. The man was funny, pointed out all the dirty bits in the books they were reading, and seemed very empathizing. Paul had often wondered if he should confide in him about Mr. Maxwell.

But today his mind was not focused on his English literature or the words Mr. Durband was saying. His mind was thinking about that strange young man, John, in his Maths class, and the feelings that had rushed through him. What on earth had that been all about? He tried to focus on Mr. Durband’s words, but it felt like his voice came from another world. He kept hearing that other intriguing voice asking for his name.

At lunchtime Paul sat next to George, as he did every day. George was one year below Paul and they rode the same bus to school. When they found out they both liked rock ’n roll a lot, and that both of them played guitar, they had become close friends. “You’ll never guess what happened to me today” George said excitedly. “Well if I’ll never guess, you’d better tell me then” Paul chuckled.

“Ha ha, very funny”, George answered. “One of those new guys from the Quarry Bank Grammar School asked me to show me the way to his classroom. A mean looking Teddy-Boy that one! I thought I was gonna wet me pants!” “Well” Paul replied, “One of them was in my Maths class this morning. He’s quite a bit older than the rest of us, but he’s somewhat behind on Maths matters. Oh look, there he is!” Paul pointed at John, who walked into the canteen with two mates, looking around for a place to sit. “Shit, that’s the same guy that asked me for directions” George whispered.

John’s eyes found Paul and he moved towards their table. “Well hello, if that isn’t Eh George and Paul, Paul McCartney” John said with a wicked grin. “Mind if we join you lassies at your table?” Without waiting for an answer he sat down opposite to Paul. His friends joined him. John’s eyes met Paul’s. Shit, there it was again, that strange feeling rushing through him. Paul quickly looked at George, but he seemed to have shrivelled beside him, and was completely focused on his food.

“Well, I’d offer you a seat, but it seems you’ve already taken one” Paul said, trying not to shrivel himself under John’s scrutinizing look. “So, since I’m supposed to spend the rest of my schooldays in this depressing place” John said, “I need someone to tell me all about it. And you seem to be the right person to enlighten me, Paul, Paul McCartney”. Paul felt a rush of excitement when he looked John is his eyes, smiled and said, “Well Lennon, John Lennon, I think you’ve come to the right place.” John smiled at him and said “See you after school then,” stood up and left the table. And Paul felt bereft and confused. He didn’t understand why.

***

John was angry. Very angry, Mr. Klein had humiliated him in front of the whole class by practically saying he was stupid. And he then had taken him to a classroom full of toddlers! But there he had spotted that gorgeous boy and was lucky enough to be seated next to him. He remembered how the boy, Paul, had looked down at his hands, and John had noticed Paul’s hands were very elegant, with long, slender fingers. He had suddenly wondered what it would feel like to be caressed by those fingers.

These were strange, confusing feelings, and he was glad when the lesson was over and he could leave that classroom. But as soon as Paul was out of his sight, John felt bereft. Bereft of a feeling he never felt before. He couldn’t place that feeling, couldn’t figure out what it was. But he knew he missed it.

He hooked up with Pete and Colin for the rest of his lessons and they walked into the canteen together at lunchtime. He almost immediately spotted Paul, sitting next to that skinny boy John had spoken to that morning. Without a second thought he went straight over to Paul’s table and plopped down across from him. “Mind if we join you lassies at your table?” he had said, and saw that George was trying to disappear. Paul however, had looked him in the eyes as to challenge him. And John had seen it. The colour of Paul’s eyes: hazel, brown, green, gold, black; a kaleidoscope of colours, changing from one colour to another and then melting together. He’d never seen anything like it.

Did Paul just say he wanted to tell John about school? John didn’t want to talk about school. He wanted to talk about Paul. Did he like music? And what kind of music? What was his favourite food? Where did he live? But he couldn’t talk about those things with Pete and Colin there. So he would have to talk about school. Well, better than not talking to Paul at all. “See you after school then” he said and walked away. He was going to talk to Paul after school! He didn’t understand where this strange feeling of euphoria came from. But it was there nevertheless. He hoped Pete and Colin wouldn’t notice.

***

Paul was nervous and conflicted. How could he have agreed to meet up with John Lennon after school? He must have been out of his mind! But wait a minute….he didn’t agree to do so, did he? John said he would see him after school and left the table, not waiting for Paul to answer. So he didn’t have to go, did he? Hell, he couldn’t even go if he wanted to. He had to take Mike home after school. But not seeing John after school didn’t seem an option either. First of all, John would not be pleased if Paul stood him up. Not a good idea to make an enemy out of that Teddy-Boy!

And secondly…..Paul really would like to spend time with John. Getting to know him. Be in his presence. He didn’t know why he felt that way. After all he only just met John. But no, he couldn’t meet up with John. He had to take Mike home. He couldn’t let his brother go home alone and face Mr. Maxwell without Paul. Just thinking of what that man could do to Mike made him wince. He had to protect Mike no matter what. Even declining to meet john after school.

So at the end of the school day he walked to the bus stop with Mike and George, got on the bus and returned home, without seeing John. Was it the right decision? Only time would tell.

After saying goodbye to George, Paul and Mike walked the short distance to their house on Forthlin Road. Mike chattered away, not noticing Paul’s silence. At home, after making Mike and himself a cup of tea, Paul started on his homework, but he couldn’t concentrate. His mind started wandering. What would John think of him not showing up?

Paul looked up at the clock. In half an hour Mr. Maxwell would be here. They would have dinner together and after that it would be bedtime for twelve-year old Mike. And Paul would be left alone with Mr. Maxwell. He already started to numb his feelings, preparing for what was to come. He tried to focus on his homework again. But thoughts of John, this intriguing young man and the fear of what would happen tonight kept creeping into his head. Why was his life so difficult?

***

John stood at the entrance of the Liverpool Institute, waiting for Paul to come. He had told Pete and Colin to go home without him. After all, he really wanted to meet up with Paul alone. He told his friends that he was going to have Paul on, and that he needed to be alone with him to make the joke succeed.

So there he was, standing alone on the steps of the imposing building, waiting for that beautiful, intriguing boy. Why was he thinking of Paul as beautiful? Damn, he wasn’t a queer, was he? The great John Lennon was a chick-magnet after all, wasn’t he? He’d like to think so anyway. And intriguing, why did he think of Paul as intriguing? He hardly knew him, for heaven’s sake! Still, he was full of excitement as he lit a cigarette and waited, and waited and waited….

After 20 minutes, John was raving. He told Paul to be there after school and the kid stood him up? Him, the great John Lennon? How dare he? Well if he thought he could just ignore John’s demands without sanctions, he’d got another thing coming! John lit another cigarette and walking to the bus stop he brooded about the punishment he would give Paul. The kid had to be put in his place and realize that you never, never ever, should turn down John Lennon!

***

Paul groaned as his alarm clock made that annoying sound alarm clocks usually make too early in the morning. His body felt sore and he had a splitting headache. He put his blanket over his head and tried to turn around. A sting of pain rushed through his lower body. He didn’t want to go to school. As a matter of fact he didn’t want to go anywhere; he just wanted to disappear. Not exist anymore. Now that would be good. No more fear, no more pain, no more despair, just no more anything.

“Paul, wake up, you’re going to be late for school!” his father called from somewhere in the house. Probably from the kitchen, making breakfast for his sons, while drinking his first cup of tea of the day. Paul groaned again. There was no way he was going to make it to school today, he was sure of it.

A couple of minutes later his dad walked into his tiny bedroom. “Why aren’t you up yet? You really have to hurry to make it to the bus in time.” Paul peeped at his dad from underneath the blanket. “I’m not feeling well, dad, my head is killing me”.

His dad looked at him with concern. “You sure don’t look very well, son.” He put his hand on Paul’s forehead to check if he had a temperature. It reminded Paul of his mum. She always did the same before she passed away and left Paul alone with his dad and Mike. And Mr. Maxwell. Paul’s eyes suddenly filled with tears.

“You better stay in bed today, son. I’ll call the school to tell them you’re not coming in today. I’ll just make sure Mike gets to the bus on time and then I’ll bring up a cup of tea before I’ll leave for work. Just try to get some sleep.” And that’s what Paul tried to do. But thoughts of John kept him from falling asleep. Would John be angry at him for not showing up?

***

John had been lying awake most of the night thinking of a way to make Paul pay for standing him up. He’d come up with an idea and couldn’t wait to get to school and execute his plan. As he entered the Liverpool Institute he saw that skinny friend of Paul’s, what was his name again? Oh yeah, George. “Hey kid, where’s your friend, you know the one that looks like a bird, I believe his name is Paul?”

George trembled as he was spoken to. John Lennon scared him. “I, I, I don’t know, haven’t seen him yet” and he moved down the corridor as quickly as he could. John made his way to his classroom, thinking he’d catch Paul later that day during Maths. But Paul wasn’t there, his desk was empty. He was surprised, however, to find a familiar face at the desk he’d occupied yesterday: Ivan Vaughn!

Ivan was just as surprised to see John, who lived across the street from him. Even though Ivan was about two years younger than John, he had become part of the group of friends surrounding John. He never realized he might end up in the same classroom with him.

“Hey Ivy, surprised to see you here.” John smiled broadly as he sat down next to Ivan at Paul’s spot. He wanted to chat with Ivan, but was interrupted by Mr. Weiss: “Mr. Lennon, I’d advise you to pay attention if you want to catch up with your Maths so you can rejoin your own class.” And that’s what John tried to do. But thoughts of Paul kept him from concentrating. Why wasn’t Paul at school?

***

Around lunchtime Paul decided to get out of bed. His headache was gone and he was hungry. But first he had to take a pee. As he entered the small bathroom he noticed to his horror that his underpants had bloodstains in them. Oh no, not again! Paul frantically tried to wash the stains away, but as he already suspected, his efforts were in vain. He couldn’t let his dad find his blooded underpants between the laundries. He would have to throw them away. Again.

Damned, he would have to spend his pocket money on buying new underpants. Again. Sighing deeply he returned to his bedroom, got dressed and found his way downstairs for something to eat. He then sat at the piano, his hands finding chords, making up a sad tune. Outside the rain was pouring down. Words came to him: “It’s not right, in one life, too much rain”.

***

John left the classroom chatting with Ivan. “What about the guy that usually sits next to you? He was there yesterday, Paul, his name is?“ “Yeah. I guess he must have been ill today. He’s a very nice guy, a really good friend of mine. We actually share the same birthday! I think you would like him a lot too. He’s very musical. Plays guitar very well, but he’s also quite adept on the piano. Sings as well, good voice, he has. You also have the same taste in music; he’s just as crazy about rock ’n roll as you are. Maybe I should take him to one of your Quarrymen gigs, and introduce you guys.”

“Oh, we’ve already been introduced yesterday. But you can always bring him along to one of our next gigs. That way he can hear what real rock ’n roll sounds like and how a guitar should be played.” Ivan thought that it would be the other way around, as Paul was a far better guitar player than John was. But he surely wasn’t going to tell John that!

As John walked off to the classroom for his next lesson, his head was filled with thoughts of Paul. So the boy was not only gorgeous, but musical as well. And he was into rock ‘n roll. Sounded like a perfect match for John. But of course he first had to pay for standing John up of course. He couldn’t let Paul get away with that, no matter how stunning and musical he was! John looked out of the window. It was raining again. Typical Liverpudlian weather, always too much rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to read comments!


	3. SOMERSAULTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> In this chapter John starts to have some strange feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul went back to school the next day. He’d rather be at school then alone at home now the headache was gone. There was still a lingering pain in his lower body, but he could deal with it. So he walked down the street with Mike, who, as usually, chattered away. Boy, could that lad talk! Paul didn’t mind however. At least Mike was happy. No worries for him. And Paul would make sure things stayed that way. Nobody would ever hurt his little brother. 

On the bus they were greeted by George.”Hey mate, all better again? This Lennon guy was asking about you yesterday. What does he want from you? If I were you I would stay clear of him. I’ve heard he’s nothing but trouble.” John asked about him? Why? Paul wondered if he was mad at him for not showing up the other day. Well he’d soon find out, wouldn’t he? 

As Paul and Mike walked up the stairs to the doors of their school, they saw some guys lingering in front of the entrance, smoking ciggies. “Those are the new guys that came from the Quarrybank Grammar School” Mike whispered. “I think they look really scary, maybe we’d better walk around them, staying as far away from them as possible.” Mike jumped as one of the guys called out to them “Hey McCartney, I need a word with you!” Mike paled and turned to his brother, panicked: “How does he know my name, Paul? What am I supposed to do? Why does he want to talk to me?” “I don’t think he means you Mikey” Paul snickered, “I met him in Maths class yesterday, so he probably wants a word with me. You just go to your class and I see you later. Have a good day and behave yourself!” 

Mike rushed up the last stairs and disappeared into the school, leaving his brother standing in front of those Quarrybank lads. “What is it you want to talk to me about Lennon?” Paul asked, looking as casually as possible. Of course he knew what that Lennon guy wanted to talk about: him not showing up yesterday after school. “Pete and Collin, you guys better go ahead” Paul heard John say, “I’m gonna explain to this obnoxious little brat here that if John Lennon tells you to jump, you jump!” Collin and Pete chucked. “You tell him Lenny. Make sure he knows who’s boss!” and they disappeared through the front doors.

Paul now stood alone in front of the young man he’d been thinking about since he met him, trying to look cool. But inside his stomach was doing somersaults. “What do you want Lennon?” he asked again. He shivered when John blew cigarette smoke in his face, looked at him with eyes pinched together and said with a cutting voice “we are going for a walk, McCartney.”

***

John stood in front of the doors of the Liverpool Institute, together with Pete and Colin, waiting for Paul to arrive. If he would arrive. He might still be home sick. He hoped he wasn’t. He really wanted to see the boy again. Those kaleidoscope eyes, that melodic voice, those full lips….Shit what was he thinking? That’s not why he wanted to see Paul, was it? Why was he having such ridiculous thoughts? He wanted to see Paul so he could put him in his place. He needed to make that boy see that nobody stood John Lennon up! Certainly not some little upstart as Paul. Even if he was drop dead gorgeous! His heart skipped a beat as he suddenly saw the face he’d been dying to see, walking up the stairs together with some very young boy.

“Hey McCartney, I need to talk to you!” he called out to Paul. The young boy whispered something to Paul and he saw Paul snickering. Then the younger boy ran up the stairs. John told Colin and Pete to go inside, which they did. They always did what John told them to do; he was their leader after all.

Then he was alone with Paul. “What do you want Lennon?” Paul’s voice sent shivers down his spine.  
Well what did he want? “I wanna be near you, wanna get to know you” John thought, but he couldn’t really say that, could he? That would be too…..queer. But still….. that was what he wanted. He blew smoke in Paul’s face, and pinching his eyes to see him better, he heard himself say: “we are going for a walk McCartney.”

***

Did he hear that right? Did John just tell him to go for a walk with him? No, he must have heard it wrong. “Go for a…..walk? You’re joking aren’t you? School is about to start and I’ve got lessons to attend. I’m not going on a bloody walk with you!” Paul tried to push past John to get through the doors, but John blocked his way. “You stood me up on Monday. You think you can just keep me waiting for 20 minutes, standing me up, and get away with it? Well if you think that, you’ve got another thing coming son!”

Paul’s eyes widened at John’s aggressive words and he took a step back. What was he going to do? He couldn’t just skip school because some guy he barely knew told him so? Of course not! But why did his stomach keep doing somersaults at the thought of going for a walk with John? Why was his mind swirling and considering doing what John told him to? Come on, get a grip, you fool! 

“No, I’m not coming with you. Now let me through, or else you’ve got another thing coming” he heard himself say. Did he really say that? Oh God, what was John going to do now? He saw John’s eyes widen for a moment and to his surprise, John stepped aside and let him pass. He quickly ran inside, releasing his breath that he didn’t know he was holding, and made his way to his classroom. Shit. He probably was going to pay for this.

***

John was flabbergasted, stunned, bewildered. Did Paul just say “no” to him? How dare he say no to him? Nobody dared to say no to him! Well if that little shit thought he could say no to him, he had another thing coming! But as he told Paul so, he felt his anger being pushed aside by something else: disappointment. Paul didn’t want to go for a walk with him. He felt his heart tumble, suddenly realizing how eager he had been to be alone with Paul. Once again.

“No, I’m not coming with you” he heard Paul say. He couldn’t believe his ears, but Paul’s voice was so convincing that John, the great John Lennon, stepped aside and let him pass. John stood at the doors, confused, not knowing what hit him. Did he really let this happen? He’d better make sure nobody found out about it, it would completely ruin his reputation! He couldn’t let Paul get away with this. He was gonna let the kid pay for this! But what was it about Paul that made John give in to him, while nobody else could? John’s mind was swirling and he had the strangest feeling in his stomach.

***

Maths. His favourite subject. Not. And even worse: John would be in his class. At least Ivan was there today, sitting next to Paul, so John couldn’t sit there. But when Mr. Weiss started the lesson, John was nowhere to be seen. Paul released a sigh of relieve, he wasn’t sure he could cope being in the same classroom with John. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t concentrate. He heard Mr. Weiss’s voice, but his words didn’t settle in his brain. His brain was filled with other things, like John’s almond shaped eyes that had suddenly widened when Paul told him he wasn’t coming with him. Like John’s nasal, cutting voice that, strange as it may seem, mesmerized Paul. 

He scared Paul, but at the same time Paul wanted to be near him, getting to know him better. It totally confused him: he should stay far away from John! Paul was startled when the classroom door was thrown open and John suddenly appeared. Telling Mr. Weiss he hadn’t been able to find the right classroom because the “bloody school is such a complete maze” he walked over to Ivan and told him to move. Ivan hurried over to another seat and John flopped down at the now vacant seat next to Paul. With a wicked grin he looked at Paul and whispered: “I hope you didn’t think you would get rid of me that easily, did you, Macca?”

***

John stood at the entrance of the Liverpool Institute, not knowing what hit him. He actually let Paul have the upper hand in the confrontation! But instead of being angry about it, it thrilled him. It seemed he had met his match in the younger boy, finally somebody he could interact with without them grovelling and obeying. It wasn’t just thrilling, it was overwhelmingly thrilling! He wanted more of that, he wanted to talk to Paul as an equal instead of bossing everybody around. He wanted more of that alluring boy. 

Maths. Maths! He was supposed to be at his Maths class together with Paul. With Paul! John practically ran through the doors towards his classroom, entered with a “Sorry Mr. Weiss, I couldn’t find the right classroom. This bloody school is a complete maze!” and after searching and finding Paul in the classroom he walked straight over to him. And with a “move over Ivy, this is my seat” he made sure he could take a seat next to Paul. He saw Paul’s gorgeous eyes widen as he whispered: “I hope you didn’t think you would get rid of me that easily, did you, Macca?” And a voice inside his head told him to not let Paul get away this time; they would meet after school no matter what.

***

Paul barely made it through the lesson. He was extremely aware of John’s presence next to him. It distracted him, confused him, thrilled him, scared him, excited him. He tried to keep his eyes in front of him, focused on his hands, but an overwhelming urge he couldn’t fight, made him take a look at John. And as he looked up, his eyes met John’s, causing his stomach doing somersaults again. For a few moments their eyes locked; they seemed glued together. A warm feeling spread throughout his body. He felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. Shit! He quickly averted his eyes to his hands again. He tried not to look at John again during the rest of the lesson, but it was difficult to resist the temptation. Bloody difficult! Especially when he felt that John’s eyes were on him all the time. 

He managed to fight the temptation, but as a result he couldn’t concentrate on the things Mr. Weiss was explaining. “Mr. McCartney, can you tell me what the answer is?” Paul almost jumped at the voice of his teacher. Answer? Answer to what? Oh my God, he had no idea what had been asked! He stared at the blackboard as if the answer to the unknown question was written on it, looked up at Mr. Weiss, then turned to John, who looked at him with that wicked grin of his and said: “I’m sorry Mr. Weiss, I don’t know the answer. But I’m sure Mr. Lennon here does.” And seeing John’s grin falter and his eyes grow wide with unbelief, he flashed him a mischievous smile. To his surprise John answered Mr. Weiss…….

***

John kept his eyes fixed on Paul. The boy was looking at his hands and looked absolutely adorable. Adorable? Shit what was he thinking? Then Paul suddenly looked up and their eyes met. John felt as if Paul looked straight into his soul. And he could see straight into Paul’s. It was an amazing feeling he didn’t ever want to end. But then Paul looked at his hands again. John felt bereft at the loss of the eye contact, but when he saw a blush on Paul’s cheeks, a warm feeling spread through his body. He kept looking at the gorgeous boy and he couldn’t stop smiling at the sight of him, Mr. Weiss’s explanation flying completely over his head. 

And then, out of nowhere Paul turned to him: “I’m sorry Mr. Weiss, I don’t know the answer. But I’m sure Mr. Lennon here does.” John looked at Paul as if he came from another planet, totally mesmerized by that irresistible smile and those eyes. Green, brown, gold, black…..Then he turned to Mr. Weiss and said “Kaleidoscope eyes.” He had no idea why the whole class burst out laughing.

***

Paul gathered his belongings, but as he tried to leave the classroom, he felt a hand squeezing his arm. He turned around and looked into those now familiar eyes of John Lennon. “Don’t even think about walking away like that. I don’t like being made fun of, McCartney. We’ve got some things to settle. I’ll see you at the front door after school. And don’t you dare not showing up this time!”

John’s eyes were spitting fire and his voice sounded threatening. He pushed Paul aside and walked out of the classroom. Shit, shit, shit. He really made an enemy there. He remembered George’s words about John from this morning: “If I were you I would stay clear of him. I’ve heard he’s nothing but trouble.” Well, he really got himself in some trouble now, didn’t he? How was he supposed to handle this? Well he had the whole day ahead of him to think about a solution. And if he didn’t think of something…...well he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. He stepped into the corridor on his way to his next lesson. But his stomach was doing somersaults again........

***

John was fuming! He was furious! That McCartney kid had made a fool of him in front of the entire class! He had no idea why he had said that. Scratch that. Of course he knew why he said that, but he shouldn’t have said that out loud. Kaleidoscope eyes. Paul’s eyes. Shit he was so fucked! And so embarrassed. Mr. Weiss had given him a strange look, the class had started laughing, and he had wanted to disappear into a non existing hole in the ground. 

And Paul? A smile had spread across his face, a smile that reached up to those kaleidoscope eyes and they sparkled. They literally sparkled! God he was so fucked! He had to stop this. He had to put Paul back into his place! But then again, wasn’t he so excited to have met his match? This was confusing as hell! He grasped Paul’s arm as he tried to leave the classroom: “I’ll see you at the front door after school!” 

Was it the anger that made him feel like he was on fire? Or was it something else? Something he didn’t understand yet, couldn’t acknowledge yet? Well maybe he’ll find out whether it was anger or something else when he met up with Paul after school. Not need to worry about it now. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave comments!


	4. BUTTERFLIES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> In this chapter our boys are getting to know each other a bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Mike chatted away as they walked through the corridor towards the doors, but Paul wasn’t really listening. Would John be waiting at the doors for him, just like he told him he would? And if so, what would Paul do? Just walk past John and go to the bus stop with his brother just as he did every day? Or would he let Mike go home by himself and stay with John? He could do that. Dad was home, so no Mr. Maxwell to worry about, Mike would be safe. 

Paul felt himself go more nervous with every step he took toward the doors. Maybe John wouldn’t be there at all and he was getting all worked up for nothing. But when he stepped outside, he saw John standing there, smoking, with those two other blokes that always seemed to be around him (except for his Maths classes of course). 

“Hey Macca, you took your time coming here. I thought you would be anxious to see me, but apparently you’re in no rush to go home. So who’s the kid?” Mike looked at Paul with fear in his eyes. That scary Teddy Boy talked to them again! And what did the guy mean when he said he had been waiting for Paul? Surely Paul wouldn’t want to talk to someone like that? 

Paul looked from his younger brother to the older guy and back. “He’s my little brother. His name’s Mike.” Paul looked at John again and their eyes met. And Paul knew there would be no escaping this time. He was going to stay here with John. “You go ahead Mike. Tell dad I’m coming home a bit late, tell him I’m meeting with a friend.”

“But…Paul….” Mike stuttered, looking from his brother to the older guy. Surely that guy wasn’t a friend of Paul’s? “Hurry up Mike, or you’ll be late for the bus. I’ll be alright” Paul assured him. “Yeah you better listen to your big brother, kid. Him being old and wise and clever and so on. No need for you to stay behind and get yourself into the same trouble as he has gotten himself into. Now piss off!” Mike took one more look at Paul and then ran, away from the scary Ted, leaving Paul alone with those three Quarrybank guys.

***

John stood there outside the doors of the Liverpool Institute, smoking his cigarette and listening to Pete and Collin. Although listening……. He might look as if he was listening, but his mind was filled with thoughts. Thoughts of Paul. Would the boy come with him as he’d told him to? Or would he just go home and leave John standing here? And what if he did decide to stay behind with John, what would John ask him to do? Take a walk with him, like he had suggested before? Wouldn’t that be…..weird? What would he talk about? He should be putting Paul in his place for standing him up, for embarrassing him in front of the class, for making him think about the boy’s eyes, his voice, his…....shit Lennon, what the hell is wrong with you? 

And then suddenly Paul was there, but he wasn’t alone. A very young kid was walking beside him, animatedly talking to Paul. Well, whoever the kid was, he had to get rid of him first. And then he had to lose Pete and Collin. After having learned the boy was Paul’s kid brother, he told the lad to piss off. “There’s no need to scare him off like that, he’s just a boy” Paul told him after Mike ran away. “Whatever,” John replied, as he turned to Pete and Collin. 

“You guys piss off as well, I’ve got some things to settle with McCartney here. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” “Alright John, let him have it! See you tomorrow!” And there John stood, alone with Paul. A strange feeling in his stomach. A feeling he shouldn’t have. Not for another boy at least. But they sure were there: butterflies.

***

“So you have a kid brother?” John asked him. “Yeah, he just started here this year. He’s 3 years younger than me. Do you have any siblings?” “I’ve got two half-sisters, quite a bit younger than me” John answered. Why were they suddenly talking about their families? Paul wondered. Bit strange to start a conversation about family since they didn’t really know each other at all. “So you wanted me to show you around? Show you all the secret places of the Inny?” 

Paul looked at John with a question in his eyes; why did John pick him to show him around anyway? He could have chosen anyone. So why him? Not that he minded, if he was being honest with himself. “Are there any? Secret places, that is? Because I love secret places. You can have lots of fun there” John said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You should have shown me the other day though, instead of standing me up.” 

Paul chuckled. “Standing you up? I don’t recall me ever agreeing to meet you after school. Just because you told me to do so, doesn’t mean I come running. I don’t like being ordered around, you know. But since we’re here now, I’ll show you around anyway. Let’s start with my favourite classroom.” Paul turned around and entered the school again, feeling John following him closely. When he stopped at the classroom he wanted to show John, he guy bumped in to him. Paul turned around, looking questioningly at John: “Hey watch it, will you?”

***

John was perplexed. The kid just told him he didn’t jump when John told him to. Nobody usually dared to refuse him anything! Well except for his aunt Mimi of course. John usually jumped when she told him to. And why the hell were they talking about their siblings anyway? John couldn’t care less about his own siblings, let alone Paul’s. At least the boy wanted to show him around, so he could spend some time alone with him. Wonder what his favourite classroom was. Must be something really boring like Chemistry or something. 

He followed Paul closely. Didn’t want to lose him in this maze of corridors. He didn’t want to lose him at all. He suddenly bumped into Paul. He didn’t notice the boy had stopped walking, his mind was too occupied with thoughts. Thoughts he shouldn’t have. “You shouldn’t stop so abruptly, it’s a dangerous thing to do, you know, stopping without giving a warning” he answered Paul’s “Hey watch it, will you?” Paul chuckled as he opened the door to the classroom. It was the music room.

***

Paul beamed as he opened the door to the music room. His favourite classroom. He loved being in there, all the instruments he was always dying to get his hands on. He wanted to try everything in there. And although the music lessons weren’t always interesting (Mr. Davis could go on about the technical sides of music a bit too much), Paul loved the music lessons more than anything. He loved music, any type of music, but especially rock ‘n roll. He often imagined himself in front of an audience playing his guitar, singing in a microphone, flirting with the girls in front of the stage. He smiled at the mental image. 

That’s why he heard John’s voice, but completely missed his question. “You’re deaf, or something?” John said when Paul didn’t answered but just looked at him. “Eh, I didn’t get quite get your question,” Paul answered, blushing slightly. “I asked if you like music” John repeated, looking around the classroom. “Yeah, I do, a lot actually, especially rock ‘n roll. Love Elvis, Little Richard and Buddy Holly, what about you?“ Paul replied. He saw John’s face light up, a most beautiful smile adorning his face. God the man looked gorgeous when he smiled. Paul tried to ban that unwanted thought from his head. What was he thinking? “Ah, you’re my kind of guy!” John exclaimed, throwing his arm around Paul’s shoulders, and Paul felt the blush creep up his cheeks.

***

“He’s very musical. Plays guitar very well, but he’s also quite adept on the piano. Sings as well, good voice, he has. You also have the same taste in music; he’s just as crazy about rock ’n roll as you are.” John recalled Ivan’s words from the other day. And now here he was, in the school’s music room. He asked Paul if he liked music, but the boy didn’t seem to hear him, so he asked again. Paul’s answer shouldn’t have surprised him, given Ivan’s earlier statement, but somehow it did. Paul just looked too…....innocent, too…....polite, too….....cute (was he really thinking Paul was cute?) to like rock ’n roll, but there it was: Paul liked Elvis. 

Everybody who liked The King was immediately in John’s good book. And to top it, Paul actually looked a bit like Elvis as well! All the thought of punishing Paul for standing him up and embarrassing him in front of the class vanished like snow in the sun. “You’re my kind of guy!” And as he put his arm around Paul’s shoulders, he saw the boy blushing. Shit, the butterflies were back.

***

“Dad, I’m home” Paul called out as he hung up his coat and took of his shoes. As he walked towards the kitchen where his dad was cooking their supper, Mike came running down the stairs. “Paul, are you alright? I told dad some really scary Teddy Boy harassed you, I was so afraid he would you hurt you!” Paul laughed at his little brother, it was so touching to see Mikey all worried about him! “I’m okay Mike, no worries. John isn’t as scary as he looks, you know. He just wanted me to show him around the school, and that’s what I did. We had a nice chat about music as well, he loves Elvis, just like I do.” 

“Hello son, everything alright? Mike got me worried a bit,” his dad appeared at the kitchen door. “Everything’s fine, dad, nothing to worry about. What’s for dinner then?” “Sausage and mash, son, done in 15 minutes.” Paul took his schoolbag and rushed up the stairs to put it in his room, tickling his brother along the way. ”You shouldn’t have worried dad, Mike, there was no need for that, you little rascal!” As he entered his tiny bedroom, thoughts of his encounter with John crossed his mind and a warm feeling filled his heart.

***

As John plopped down on his bed, he looked up to the poster on the wall. Elvis. His idol. The man looked so gorgeous, with his black hair and full lips. And his eyes…..Another pair of eyes seemed to replace Elvis’s eyes. A pair of big doe eyes, greenish-brown, with long eyelashes, perfect eyebrows. Paul. He looked like Elvis, same black hair and full lips. But his eyes…..John had never seen eyes like that. He turned on his stomach, buried his head in his pillow and groaned. What was happening to him? It was alright to have some kind of crush on a famous singer, but on a real life boy? 

He thought of the conversation he had with Paul in the music room. They had talked about their favourite singers, and realized they had the same taste: Elvis, Little Rickard, Chuck Berry, The Everly Brothers, Buddy Holly…..They shared the same love for the more obscure songs of their favourite artists. They had talked and talked, forgetting the time, until Mr. Davis, the music teacher, entered the classroom and had sent them on their way. 

John took out his black rimmed glasses, looking at them as if it was the first time he saw them. Every morning he would step out of the door without them on. Every morning Mimi would call after him to put his glasses on. Every morning he would put them on, because if Mimi told you to do something, you obviously did so. And every morning he took them off as soon as he had disappeared around the corner. He didn’t want to be caught dead with those stupid glasses on. A cool guy like John didn’t wear glasses. 

But Paul had said Buddy Holly looked absolutely cool with his black rimmed glasses! Maybe John should reconsider wearing them, if Paul thought they looked cool. Would help him to see that beautiful face better as well. Shit. Butterflies again.

***

For the next couple of days, they shared their lunchtime together, with Colin, Pete, Ivan and George. But both John and Paul secretly wished they could be alone. So they started to spend some time together after school, hanging out on the school’s marble stairs, sharing a cigarette (Paul had coughed his lungs out after the first pull John offered him, causing John to laugh his lungs out) and talking about…...music. 

After a couple of weeks they spend all their time after school together, and they started to do so at each other’s houses. Paul was in awe of John’s house, a semidetached, rather big house with a large garden. The house even had servant’s bells (not that there were any servants, but still…..). Paul was also in awe of John’s aunt Mimi. Paul had explained he lived with his aunt because his parents didn’t want him (how could anyone not want John?), so he grew up with his aunt. 

Paul thought she was scary, the way she looked at him as if he was some street rat, even though Paul was always polite to her and always tried to speak the Queens English, as his mother taught him to do. He liked being in John’s room with his Elvis poster (and a very nice one of Brigitte Bardot as well).  
They listened to John’s records (he had a lot of them, and after asking John where he got the money to buy so many records, John grinned and told him he didn’t buy them, he just stole them! Paul was horrified!). 

They started to play guitar together as well, John being quite impressed how good Paul was. Paul taught him how to tune his guitar and showed him new chords. And John started to wear his glasses around Paul, that way he had a better look of Paul’s fingers (elegant, long fingers!) at the frets and of that gorgeous face. But Mimi didn’t appreciate their playing very much. Paul’s father however didn’t mind the boys playing, so soon all of their musical encounters were at Paul’s house.

***

John was in awe of Paul’s house. Not because it was big or fancy or anything like that. In fact it was rather small. John was in awe of the warmth of the house, the house was a real home, even though Paul’s mum wasn’t there anymore (Paul had told him his mum died when he was just 8 years old, and John had felt very sorry for him, the poor kid). John was also in awe of Paul’s father Jim. He thought the man was scary. He always looked at him as if he was some kind of street rat, talking with a Scouse accent and leading his precious boy astray. 

But John also felt the love the man had for both his sons and admired him for taking care for them on his own. And then there was Paul’s younger brother Mike. John, not growing up with siblings, was rather amazed at the strong bond between the McCartney brothers. Mike obviously adored his older brother and looked up to him, while Paul was very protective of Mike and seemed to care for him deeply. Maybe losing their mum at such a young age created a bond so strong that it could never be broken.

John’s playing got better and better with Paul’s help. And John was deeply impressed by Paul’s voice. He could sing the sweetest ballads, a voice as soft as velvet, melodic, angelic. And then he would belt out the hardest rockers, a voice as rough as sandpaper, loud, screaming. They found out their voices really harmonized in a most beautiful way. John started to consider asking Paul to join his band, but wasn’t he a bit too young for that? 

Pete and Colin were already making fun of him spending all his time with “a baby”. But John could imagine how great it would be performing with Paul, sharing the stage with him, singing in one mic together, looking in his eyes…...no scratch that, looking at his lips……scratch again, just looking at..…at…..the audience together! And every day, walking home from Forthlin Road with his guitar on his back, he missed Paul’s presence and he could hardly wait to see him in school the next day.


	5. AT FORTHLIN ROAD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> In this chapter John goes over to Forthlin Road when Paul doesn't show up at school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul wandered through the corridors. He was supposed to go to the canteen to get some lunch, but he wasn’t hungry today. Not since his dad told him he wouldn’t be home after school and Mr. Maxwell would be there to look after Paul and Mike. Paul’s heart had sunk and he tried in vain to talk his dad out of Mr. Maxwell coming. He dreaded going home after school, but he had to, couldn’t let Mike face Mr. Maxwell alone now, could he? He shivered at the thought of what the man would do to his little brother. And how was he going to tell John that he couldn’t come with Paul after school? They were so used spending their time together by now it would be difficult brushing him off. 

He passed the door of the music room. It was slightly ajar and Paul was drawn to the door, knowing that behind it he would find instruments, music, his solace. Music always brought him solace; when he played, whether his guitar or the piano, he would forget about all of life’s troubles. Suddenly his mum was still alive, Mr. Maxwell would not be in his life anymore, all the pain gone from his mind, from his body, from his life. 

He needed music. It was like a lifeline for him, a basic need like eating, breathing......He pushed the door open, walked straight to the piano and sat on the bench, his fingers hovering over the ebony and ivory keys. Eager to touch them, to hear the sound they would create, the melody that would surely develop when his fingers would dance over the keys, the music that would fill his ears, his mind, his total being. Bringing light to the darkness that overwhelmed him from time to time, a darkness so intense that more than once it threatened to consume him completely, leaving him on the edge of ending it all, to stop the pain, to not exist anymore. His fingers pressed down on the keys.

***

John wondered where Paul was. He hadn’t seen him arrive for school this morning, nor did they have Maths together. He saw George sitting on his own, devouring his lunch. George would know if Paul was at school, they always travelled on the same bus, together with little Mike. “Hey George, any idea where Paul is? Haven’t seen him today.” George shook his head and mumbled with his mouth full of food “No, haven’t seen him after we arrived this morning, Must be around somewhere.” 

Colin and Pete joined them at the table, laughing and joking. John sat down, looked at his food, the jokes going completely over his head. Where could Paul be? They always had lunch together. He suddenly stood up, almost kicking his lunch from the table. “I need to take a piss, back in a sec” and he left the canteen in search for Paul. 

As he passed the music room, he could hear somebody playing the piano. A melancholy melody he hadn’t heard before, soft, mesmerizing......He couldn’t stop his feet from entering the music room, drawn to sounds from that piano, eager to find out who was playing, but somehow he already knew who it was. 

Paul. Sitting at the piano, his long fingers dancing over the keys, his eyes closed as he played. He hadn’t noticed John coming in, so John just stood there, listening, watching, not daring to disturb him, not wanting to stop that beautiful music Paul was creating. He felt tears well up in his eyes, not able to look away from that gorgeous boy playing that haunting melody. Somehow he felt he shouldn’t disturb Paul now. That something very private was happening there. He turned around and quietly left the music room. And there they were again, those damn butterflies......

***

Paul saw John standing at the doors as he and Mike were leaving. “Hey John!” his brother greeted John. Over the couple of weeks that John had be coming over to their place, Mike had stopped being afraid of him and instead started to look up to him. “Hey Mikey” John playfully patted the boy on his back, but his eyes were on Paul. “Missed you at lunch Macca.” George, joining them to walk to the bus together, laughed “well you didn’t have lunch either Lennon, you never came back after going to the loo, must have been one hell of a piss!” 

John shot him an angry look and George backed off a bit. “So, eh, John......” Paul started, “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got a lot of homework today. Got an important test tomorrow and I’ve really got to study, so, eh...... I don’t think I have time for playing guitar today, so, eh, well...... See you tomorrow okay?” Paul grabbed Mike’s sleeve and pulled him down the stairs with him, not waiting for John’s answer, George following close, on their way to the bus.

***

John stood alone at the top of the stairs, totally bewildered. What was that all about? Paul didn’t want him to come with him? He didn’t buy Paul’s excuse for one minute, the boy hardly had to study hard for any test since it all came to him so easily. He kind of stored all the information he got in the lessons in his mind and when it came to tests, he remembered it all without having to study for it. And now he didn’t have time for John because he had to study? And what was the piano playing at lunchtime all about? Paul had looked so......sad. Lonely and sad. 

After a few moments of standing there in stunned silence, John ran down the stairs, trying to catch up with Paul, but he was too late. He saw Paul, George and Mike enter the bus, and as he watched the bus drive away, he felt strangely lost and lonely. Amazing how attached he had become to Paul in such a short time. What was he going to do now, all by himself, this afternoon? What did he use to do before Paul came into his life? Somehow he couldn’t recall what he had done with his life before Paul, had there ever been a life before Paul, without Paul? John decided to walk home instead of taking the bus, his mind swirling with all kinds of thoughts he couldn’t make sense off. The only thing he knew was that they were all revolving about one thing. Or one person, to be more correct. Paul.

***

When Paul and Mike arrived at their house at 20 Forthlin Road, Mr. Maxwell was already standing there, waiting for them. He was early today; usually he came just before dinnertime. Paul’s stomach dropped and he felt his blood grow cold. “Hello boys, how was school today?” Mike, not sensing Paul’s unease at all, started chatting away, while Paul opened the front door. He dragged himself into the house, his feet feeling like lead. He knew there was nothing he could do but brace himself to what would surely happen later this evening, after Mike would have gone to bed. If only John were here......

And for a short moment, his stomach did somersaults at the thought of John’s eyes, his nasal, but, oh so wonderful voice, his beautiful hands. But then he felt a large, heavy hand on his lower back, pushing him towards the small living room, and a nasty voice beside him whispering: “I’m looking forward to tonight.” Paul shivered.

***

He was lying on his bed, listening to the Everly Brothers: “I bless the day I found you, I want to stay around you, and so I beg you, let it be me” John sighed deeply. God did these words apply to him! Ever since Paul came into his life, he felt he was on cloud nine! He just wanted to be around him all of the time. He put on the Elvis record he nicked this afternoon. He sighed, his feelings confused him, like Paul had put some kind of spell on him. But he liked the spell. It gave him butterflies. And thinking of those beautiful doe eyes, that melodious voice and those elegant hands dancing on the piano keys, he shivered, feeling the now familiar feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

***

Paul was home alone. He had stayed in bed that morning, shivering under the covers. He didn’t get up when his dad called, he didn’t get up when Mike came into his room to check if Paul was up already, he just buried his head in his pillow and groaned. Mike ran down the stairs “Dad, I think Paul’s sick again” he told Jim, as he started on his bowl of cornflakes and the cup of tea his dad placed in front of him. “I’ll go check on your brother, you just finish your breakfast, son.” 

When his father sat on his bed, Paul buried his head even further in his pillow. “I feel really sick, dad, I’ve got a splitting headache and I feel nauseous. Can I please stay home today?” he mumbled. Jim sighed. He was worried about his eldest son. He was sick quite often, without any obvious reason. It was usually just one day, and the schooldays he missed didn’t seem to affect his marks, but still......“Okay son, I’ll call school to explain you’re sick. You want me to bring you some breakfast before I go?” Paul wasn’t hungry, but he could do with a cup of tea to ease the pain in his throat. 

After he heard Mike leave for school and his dad for work, Paul was alone. His head ached, his throat seemed to be on fire and there was a piercing pain in his butt. Why? He wished he could disappear, not exist anymore. Maybe he should just end it all? No more fear, no more pain, no more shame. He couldn’t go on like this anymore, he was so tired, so tired......He struggled to get out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, wincing at the pain in his lower body. 

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror; he hardly recognized himself. His eyes looked......dead. He let his eyes wander through the bathroom and his eyes caught the sight of his dad’s razor. He picked it up, it was sharp, it would be so easy to do it now, end it now. No more sadness, no more pain, no more......He suddenly dropped the razor. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t! Mr. Maxwell would go after Mike, he couldn’t let that happen! He had to protect his kid brother! He turned around in despair, he had to endure the anguish and pain for his brother’s sake, he knew he had to. He stumbled back to his bedroom, crawled up on the bed in a foetal position and wept.

***

After his lonely afternoon without Paul, John was so anxious to see his friend again, he couldn’t wait to go to school the next day, much to the amusement of his aunt Mimi. She’d never seen her nephew so eager to get to school, he even put on his glasses without her having to tell him to! John’s first class was Maths, together with Paul, and the thought made him so happy he felt like a kid on Christmas Day as he bounced into the bus, greeting Pete and Colin in the process. The sun was shining, he was going to see Paul again and after school they would be playing music together. It was going to be a good day.

He was severely disappointed when Paul was not there. He sat down in his chair, watching the closed classroom door, expecting to see Paul come in, running late for some reason, but the door never opened and Paul never emerged. Why wasn’t he there? Thoughts of Paul filled his mind and he had to fight an urge to run out of the classroom to look for him. He barely managed to stay in his seat, but the explanation Mr. Weiss gave on algorithm went over his head completely. 

When the class ended, John rushed out of the room in search of Mike or George, since they would surely know where Paul was. He bumped into George in one of the corridors. “Harrison, Macca not at school today?” he asked the skinny lad. “No, Mike told me Paul stayed in bed sick this morning. Gotta go now or I’ll be late for me next class!” George replied, in his thick Scouse accent, and left John standing in the corridor. 

Sick in bed, that wouldn’t do now, would it? John hesitated for a minute. He wouldn’t be able to see Paul today, not play music with him? He turned around and walked through the doors, down the big marble stairs and towards the bus stop. On his way to Forthlin Road, on his way to Paul.

***

Paul groaned when he heard the knock on the door. Who could that be? Well it didn’t matter, he wasn’t up to see anybody, so he wasn’t going to answer the door anyway. Whoever it was, he or she was rather persistent, because they knocked again. And again. He buried his head under the blanket, pretending not to hear the frantic knocking. After a while it stopped and he peaked out of the blankets, as if to check if the intruding visitor was really gone. He chuckled at himself for being so silly. All was quiet again and Paul tried to find a comfortable position in his bed. 

Just as he had found a fairly nice spot, he jumped at the sound of something hitting his window. What on earth was that? Something hit his window again, and Paul sat up straight, wincing at the pain in his backside. As he tried to get out of bed, he heard something hit his window a third time. Was someone throwing pebbles at his window?

He opened the curtains and to his surprise he saw John standing there, gesturing at him to open his window. Paul hesitated; he didn’t really feel up to seeing anyone right now. But this was John......He opened his window and called down at John: “What do you think you’re doing John? Trying to break my window? Dad won’t be very pleased about that, you know.” “Well if you had opened the door when I knocked, I wouldn’t have to throw pebbles to get your attention, now, would I?” John replied, “You think you could possibly get that lovely arse of yours out of bed and open the fucking door?” 

Paul winced at John’s words, thinking his arse wasn’t lovely at all, just very painful, and what’s more, he wasn’t sure he wanted to let John in. What if John noticed…...But it was John, and he always loved spending time with John. He sighed deeply. “I’m coming down, just be patient okay, I’m sick you know.” He put on his dressing gown over his pyjamas and slowly descended the stairs, on his way to see John.

***

“Hey Macca, I’m here to brighten up your day! You must be so lonely without my larger-than-life presence to cheer you up. You’ll be up and about in no time now Nurse Lennon is here to take care of you.” John pushed his way in to the McCartney residence, shoving Paul aside and walking straight over to the living room, plopping down in Jim McCartney’s armchair. “What do you want John? Aren’t you supposed to be at school” he heard Paul say a bit irritated. 

He looked up at Paul, standing in the doorway, wearing pyjamas and a dressing gown, and looking, well, a bit.......pale and......unsteady and......well......unwell. Oh dear, he really was sick then. “You better sit down, son, you look like you’re gonna pass out any minute, and I’m not gonna be the one to pick you up, you know.”

He saw Paul shuffle towards the couch and wince when he sat down. What was that all about? “John, I’m not really feeling too well right now, it might be better if you leave, so I can go back to bed and I’ll be better tomorrow.” Paul’s voice sounded wobbly, and John suddenly felt worried about his friend. If he was really sick, maybe he should stay and look after him, making him tea or soup or toast or something. What did you feed a sick teenager anyway? “Okay, now you just lie down on the couch, I’ll get your blanket and pillow and make you a nice cuppa. How’s that?” 

Paul sighed and nodded slightly, looking at John with eyes full of (what was that?) pain, despair, sadness? John jumped from Jim’s armchair (strange, Paul hadn’t told him off sitting on his dad’s armchair, as he usually did) and rushed up the stairs, entering Paul’s tiny bedroom at the front of the house. He grabbed Paul’s pillow and blanket from the bed, and as he turned to leave the room, he did a double take. He turned back to Paul’s bed and looked at it, horrified. On the bottom sheets, now revealed since John had taken the blankets off, he saw stains......bloodstains......


	6. NURSING SKILLS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Here it is, chapter number 6. In this chapter John shows Paul his nursing skills, and there's a band playing at St. Peter's church.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul tried to lie down on the couch, but no matter how he tried, it wasn’t comfortable. He sighed deeply and tried not to think of the pain in his backside, but it wasn’t easy to erase the piercing pain from his body and mind, certainly not when he remembered the bloodstains in his underpants this morning. He started shivering, just when John walked into the room with his pillow and blankets.  
He accepted the blankets gratefully, and John shoved the pillow under his head. 

Their eyes met for a second and Paul’s heart skipped a beat while his stomach felt very weird. “Thanks,” he mumbled, as he tried to stop shivering, but his teeth couldn’t seem to stop chattering. Was that worry he saw in John’s eyes? “You’re not doing so well, are you? Thought you were faking it, just to skip school, but you seem really sick. I’ll make you a cup of tea; might stop you from shivering” John said as he disappeared into the kitchen to make some tea, leaving Paul shivering under the blankets. Paul found himself craving a cup of hot tea and when John showed up with a steaming mug, he accepted it gratefully. The warm liquid finally made him stop trembling and he felt his body warming up and relaxing a bit. 

“You still haven’t told me why you’re here, Lennon” he asked, after finishing his tea and putting his mug down. “Wanted to tell you about the latest Elvis record I nicked yesterday.” Paul rolled his eyes, then looked at John with disbelief: “Why are you always stealing records, John? One of these days you’re gonna get caught, you know. And why couldn’t you wait until after school to tell me about it?”

John grinned. “Well it’s really your fault mate, you just left me standing there at school yesterday, all lonely and bored, so I had all this time on my hands and I thought nicking a record would give me something to do. And I wanted to tell you about it this morning, but you weren’t there, and I didn’t see any use sitting out all those boring lessons before I could tell you about it. It’s really gear, you know, this new Elvis record.…..” But Paul didn’t hear what John said anymore, he had fallen asleep.

***

“His voice is just so sexy, I really think Elvis is the best singer in the whole world. But when it comes to song writing, I think Buddy Holly is the best.” John just chattered away, not noticing Paul had fallen asleep, until he heard a soft snore coming from the couch. He stopped talking and looked at the boy lying under the blanket, his full lips slightly parted, long black eyelashes resting on ivory skin, a little blush on his cheeks, dark hair all messed up. Beautiful. He kept staring at the younger boy. A guy could be handsome, good-looking, but beautiful? Girls were beautiful, he shouldn’t think like that about another bloke for heaven’s sake! But Paul was beautiful. No doubt about it. He kept staring at his friend. 

His thoughts went back to the bloodstains on Paul’s sheets. Maybe he had a nose bleeding? But no, the stains would have been on his pillow then, wouldn’t they? Maybe he had injured his hand or something? Maybe he should ask him about it? He had no idea how long he had been staring at Paul, when Paul moved on the couch a little and his face seemed pained for a moment, a small frown on those perfect eyebrows. 

John stood up from old Jim’s armchair and moved toward the couch, stretching out his arm, his hand carefully tucking away a stray of dark hair from Paul’s forehead. His hair felt just as John had imagined, thick and soft. He suddenly had an overwhelming urge to kiss Paul’s eyelids. The eyelids covering those magnificent doe eyes. He slowly bent over, inhaling Paul’s scent, so unmistakable, purely Paul. His lips almost touched those eyelids, but then he suddenly heard the front door open. He jumped back from the couch. Fuck! Was it that late already? Mike was home.

***

Mike entered the living room, not expecting to see anyone there. Much to his surprise he saw John Lennon sitting in his father’s armchair, while his older brother was asleep on the couch, tucked away under a blanket. “John! What are you doing here?” Mike tried to whisper, but the surprise made him talk louder than he wanted to. Paul stirred on the couch, he winced and then his eyes flew open. He looked around, confused, and his eyes went from Mike to John. John who had skipped class to make him a cup of tea. And now Mike had skipped class as well? 

“Mike! Why aren’t you at school?” he exclaimed. John and Mike both chuckled. “Because school is over, Paul, you usually go home after school,” his brother said deadpanned. Paul’s eyes searched for the clock on the mantelpiece, but John was blocking his view. “How long have I been asleep?” His eyes searched John’s for an answer. “Hours, mate, hours, you’re a real sleeping beauty, you are. All you needed was a prince to kiss you awake. I was just about to do the job, offering meself up and all that, but then Mike managed to whisper you awake.” 

Mike laughed out loud. “That would have been some sight, John, seeing you kiss my brother awake!” Paul felt the colour rise to his cheeks. Shit, why did he blush so easily? The mental image of John kissing him awake made his stomach do somersaults again. Why did John have this weird effect on him? “John just came by to see how I was doing, Mike. And by the way, I’m doing just fine, I’m feeling much, much better than this morning. You’ve got a lot of homework, I suspect? Better get started right away. I’ll make you a cup of tea.” 

Paul started to get up off the couch, but John interfered, telling him to stay put and that he would put the kettle on and make tea for all of them. He watched John disappear into the kitchen to make tea for the second time this day, and suddenly his stomach rumbled. Mike chuckled “I think your stomach is trying to tell you something, Paul. Have you eaten anything today?” Paul shook his head, he was really rather hungry, he didn’t have breakfast nor lunch, just some tea. “Go get the cookie jar, Mike, I could really do with something to eat.” 

Mike went in to the kitchen to get the cookies, leaving Paul alone in the sitting room. Paul tried to sit up a little more straight, which, to his relieve, he managed to do without much pain. He looked up at the clock; dad would be home soon. No Mr. Maxwell today. He felt a lot better and enjoyed having his tea and some cookies together with his little brother and his best friend. John and Mike were joking around, telling stories about their teachers, laughing out loud. A warm feeling rushed through Paul’s body. Life wasn’t that bad after all.

***

John left not long after Paul’s dad had come home. He decided to walk back to Mendips, since he had a lot on his mind. A lot meaning: Paul. Paul had shown no signs at all of being sick yesterday, yet today he had suddenly fallen ill. And he really had been ill, John couldn’t deny that. He also had seen Paul wince like he was in pain a couple of times. And what about the bloodstains in Paul’s bed? He’d forgotten to ask about that. And what about the most confusing thing of all: him wanting to kiss Paul? If Mike hadn’t come home, would he have kissed Paul? 

He remembered the softness of Paul’s raven hair, the long eyelashes caressing his cheeks, his scent, his lips……wanting to kiss his eyelids……He never thought about kissing anybody’s eyelids before, certainly not another boy’s. But fuck, Paul was so beautiful! As a matter of fact, he thought Paul was the most beautiful human being he had ever seen, and it confused him deeply. The butterflies that kept returning every time he thought of Paul, every time he saw Paul. He shouldn’t feel this way about another guy, but he did. And he liked the feeling. A lot. 

He really, really had wanted to kiss Paul as he lay on the couch asleep. But what if Paul had woken up? Would he have been angry at him, shouted at him, told him to leave and never come back? Telling him he was a dirty queer? Because that was the reality of it all, wasn’t it? He was queer for Paul.

***

Next day Paul was in school again. As he climbed the stairs together with Mike and George, he was greeted by John, looking gorgeous, even in his school uniform, his auburn hair in a perfect quiff, a cheerful grin on his face. God the young man looked fantastic! “Morning John, planning to spend the day at school today, are you?” he chuckled. “Only if you decide to grace this wonderful Institute with your enduring presence, my dear chap,” John answered in a posh voice, making Paul chuckle again. 

Paul said goodbye to Mike and George as they went to their separate classes, but as he turned to John, he saw him looking at him in a most peculiar way. “See you at lunchtime then, John” he said as he started to make his way to his classroom, but John grabbed his arm. “You looked really sick yesterday, Macca, all better today then?” 

There seemed to be a hint of worry in John’s voice, or was he just imagining that? “Yeah, I’m fine Lennon. Now I’d better be going, or I’ll be late for my English class. I bet you have a class to go to as well. So…...eh…...see you in the canteen later.” “Paul…..?” John sounded strangely hesitant, “Can we meet in the music room at lunchtime instead?” Their eyes met for a moment and Paul felt excitement rushing through his veins. “The music room? Yeah, that’ll be great!“ And as he made his way to his classroom, he felt like he was walking on clouds.

***

John couldn’t wait to go to the music room. He knew they weren’t supposed to be in the music room outside of the music lessons, but he remembered Paul sitting on the piano there, playing that beautiful but sad tune, so he knew Paul came there more often. Paul wasn’t there yet, so John entered the room and walked over to the piano. He let his eyes wander over the keys, and a vision of long, slender fingers dancing over the keys came to his mind. Paul had such elegant hands, he loved watching them as he showed him a new chord on the guitar. 

“You play piano, John?” He was startled by Paul’s voice, he hadn’t heard him come in, he had been so deep in thought. “Eh no, I don’t, but I guess you do, having a piano at your home,” he said, not wanting to let Paul know he had heard him playing here some time ago. “I play a little. I’m not that good at it though” Paul replied, blushing a little. He’s blushing! Oh how awfully cute! “Play me something then.” Paul settled on the piano bench and started to play some chords.

And then suddenly, there it was, that beautiful, haunting melody he had heard Paul play before. He watched Paul, mesmerized by his hands, absorbed by the melody, a light feeling in his head. He had to ask Paul, he needed to ask Paul: “So, me and me band are playing at this church fete on Saturday. You wanna come see us?” 

Paul stopped playing and turned questioning eyes to John. God those eyes! “You never told me you’re in a band. What kind of music do you play?” Paul asked excitedly. “Rock ‘n roll, of course, you git! What else?” Paul rewarded him with a winning smile, telling him he definitely would be there Saturday. “I wouldn’t wanna miss it for anything in the world, Lennon!” And John felt the now familiar butterflies again.

***

“Dad, I’m off to see John’s band play. I’ll be back before dinner!” Paul slung his guitar across his back and jumped on his bike. “Take care, son, and have fun!” he heard his dad call after him as he drove off. Black drainies, black shirt, white sports coat, black hair in his best Elvis quiff, he cycled to St. Peter’s church in Woolton, where John’s band would be playing. The Quarrymen, that was the band’s name, even though the school they were named after didn’t exist anymore. 

Paul was exited, music always made him happy, seeing John made him happy, so the two combined made him…...deliriously happy. He stopped at Ivan’s place first, because they had decided to go to the fete together. “Looking smart McCartney, bet you’re gonna try to pull some birds, right?” Paul felt a blush creeping up his cheeks, he wanted to look smart yes, but somehow pulling birds was not on his mind at all. He wanted to look smart for somebody else…...”Yeah you never know who you’re gonna meet Ivy, and it would be a shame to miss out on a good catch just because you don’t dress smartly enough.” 

Ivan, almost a head taller than Paul, glasses on the tip of his nose, looked down at Paul and then at his own outfit, not nearly as smart as Paul’s. “You think I should change?” he asked, a bit of uncertainty in his voice. “Nah, you look okay. We’d better get going, or we will miss John’s gig.” And off they drove on their way to St. Peter’s church, birds and John.

***

John was anxious. Not because of stage fright of course, he liked going on stage, performing music to a bunch of enthusiastic teenagers, but because one of those teenagers would be Paul. If he would be there. He might not come at all. He said he would, but what if Paul’s dad forbid him to come? Or what if Paul had fallen ill again? Or what if he was run down by a car on his way over? Or what if..….”Hey John, you’re deaf or something?” he heard Pete call out to him, his washboard in his hands, ”We’re on!” 

John peaked at the audience, not spotting Paul anywhere. He sighed, Paul probably had better things to do than attending a gig of some lousy wanna-be rock ’n roll band, ‘cause they weren’t exactly a rock ‘n roll band, were they? Washboard and chest bass didn’t exactly count for rock ‘n roll.  
John and the band took to the stage and kicked off with Lonnie Donagan’s “Rock Island Line”. When John completely forgot the lines to their next song, “Come go with me” by the Dell Vikings, and just made up some nonsense lyrics instead, he, not wearing his glasses of course, squinted his eyes a bit. Was that Paul walking up to the stage? Fuck his bad eyesight! As the blurry figure came closer to the stage, John was able to distinguish the guy’s features: black hair in an Elvis hairdo, impossible tight drainies, and his eyes and lips…….definitely Paul. 

John felt his heart beating faster as he made up more nonsense lyrics that somehow seemed to fit. He came! Yes! He nodded in Paul’s direction and the boy flashed him a brilliant smile. During the remainder of their performance John kept eye-contact with Paul, somehow the rest of the world around him disappeared. John felt like he was singing and playing just for Paul, and Paul alone. God he wished Paul was there with him on stage, sharing a mic with him, playing together, harmonizing together. And suddenly it hit him: he wanted Paul in the band!

***

Paul watched John on that stage and he loved it! John looked so incredibly cool with his chequered shirt, jeans and his auburn hair in a perfect quiff, playing his guitar. He didn’t see the other band members at all, just John, who kept eye-contact with him during the entire gig; it made Paul feel like they were the only ones in the world, like he was singing just for him. 

Pity the music was more skiffle than rock ‘n roll though, since Paul liked rock ‘n roll more, and to be honest, the band didn’t play very well. But it didn’t matter much, because with John as the front man, everything else would disappear anyway. Oh to be on that stage, sharing a mic with John, performing, singing, playing with John! And suddenly it hit him: he wanted to be in John’s band!


	7. THE QUARRYMEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> So in this chapter Paul joins The Quarrymen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Monday morning came and Paul couldn’t wait to get to school and see John again. ”Come on Mike, we’ll be late for the bus. Do you really have to do everything at a snail’s pace? The way you’re going, we won’t even be at school at lunchtime!” Mike looked at his older brother in total disbelieve “What has gotten into you? We’ve got plenty of time to get to the bus, Paul” he muttered, finishing his cornflakes in a hurry. “Just hurry up, will you.” Paul took his coat, grabbed his bag and they made the bus in seconds flat. He plopped down next to George, but he didn’t really hear him, his mind swirling with thoughts of John.

***

Was he going to ask him to join the band? He was quite a bit younger than the rest of them. Not that John minded, it was Paul after all, and he would want him in the band no matter what age he was. But the others might object, thinking he was too young to hang out with the rest of them. But what the hell! It was his band, he was the leader, so he could decide whatever he wanted. And he wanted Paul in. 

Paul with his voice that could croon out a ballad like “Till there was you” (he had sung it once when they were practicing their guitars, and if John wasn’t in love with him already, he surely was after hearing Paul’s heavenly voice) just as well as scream out Little Richard’s “Long Tall Sally” (it had send shivers down his spine and caused a tingling feeling in his groin when Paul had sung that one).

And Paul was a great guitarist, better than he was himself, if he was honest. And what’s more, with his good looks he would pull a lot of birds, and since Paul wouldn’t be able to handle them all, there would surely be a couple left for him (but was that what he really wanted?). If you added everything up, there could only be one conclusion: the band needed Paul (and so did he). So he was going to ask him to join the band. That’s settled then.

***

They saw each other at their Maths class. Paul knew he had to pay attention to the explanation Mr. Weiss gave on combinatorics, since he had trouble understanding it, but somehow he couldn’t keep paying attention and the whole combinatorics flew right over his head. John was sitting next to him and kept throwing glances at him, trying to get his attention. He saw John writing something on a piece of paper, fold it and then push the note to him. Paul opened it and his eyes widened as he read the words John wrote: “Wanna join my band?” 

Paul looked up at John, a beaming smile on his lips, as he excitedly nodded his head and whispered: “Yes, I’d love to!” immediately thinking he shouldn’t have reacted so eagerly, John would probably think he wasn’t very cool, reacting too avidly. But when he saw John return a smile that lightened up his whole face, he relaxed a bit. He felt an overwhelming feeling of happiness spread through his body, he was going to be in John’s band! Could things get any better than that? He was pretty sure nothing could destroy his day, well at least until Mr. Weiss called him to the blackboard to solve something Paul was very sure he never ever heard of. 

“Well Mr. McCartney, maybe you should pay attention to my explanation next time, instead of interacting with Mr. Lennon? Unless of course Mr. Lennon can explain the in and outs of combinatorics better than me. Mr. Lennon, maybe you can solve this problem?” Mr. Weiss looked at John and pointed at the blackboard. Paul, standing in front of the blackboard, crossed eyes with John and giggled, causing John to chuckle as well. 

“Well, since you two seem to find my lesson so funny, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind hearing more about combinatorics, so I’ll tell you all about it after school.” Paul abruptly stopped giggling, gazing at Mr. Weiss in disbelieve. Detention? He never had detention in his whole school life! Shit, what would his dad say? He already thought Paul spent too much time with John and neglected his homework. What if he wouldn’t allow Paul to play in John’s band now? A few moments ago Paul had thought nothing could destroy his day, but now dark clouds were gathering above his head.

***

John stretched his legs as he sat down on his school desk in Mr. Weiss’s classroom. The amount of hours he had spent in detention at the Quarry Bank Grammar School was uncountable, so detention was nothing new for him. Strangely enough, this was the first time he got detention at the Inny. He wasn’t worried about it though, aunt Mimi would just sigh if she’d find out about it and tell him he would never make it anywhere if he kept going this way. He couldn’t care less, especially since he was going to spend the detention hour together with Paul, who, by the way, hadn’t shown up yet. Where the hell was he? 

Mr. Weiss entered the classroom looking around, but finding only John there. “Mr. Lennon, can you tell me why Mr. McCartney isn’t here?” Just as John was going to say he had no fucking idea (which would have been a bad idea, since teachers usually didn’t seem to appreciate the word “fucking”), Paul stormed in. “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Weiss, but I had to find my little brother to tell him to go home alone” he told their teacher, out of breath, as he plopped down at the desk next to John, looking rather worried. John couldn’t understand why Paul would be worried, Mike knew how to get home by himself, he didn’t need his older brother to hold his hand now, did he? Still, Paul did look disturbed, and John wondered why. And as Mr. Weiss was admonishing them about not paying attention in class, John purposed to question Paul about it later.

***

As they walked to the bus together, Paul answered John’s question. “I’ve never had detention, John, not ever! My dad’s going to be so angry about it, he already thinks you’re kind of a bad influence on me as it is, and maybe he won’t allow me to join the band now!” Paul was upset, he really, really wanted to be in John’s band, playing with him on stage, singing together, and he was so happy that John had asked him, but now everything seemed to go wrong. He was thinking about ways to persuade his dad to let him join the band, how he could smooth out the reasons for his detention, so when John poked him, it startled him. 

“What?” he snarled, looking at John, with a frown on his face. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” John asked a bit irritated. “John, I’m really worried about me dad’s reaction when I get home, I’m trying to think of ways to tell him what happened,” Paul sighed. “And I asked you if you told Mike you had detention” John replied. Paul looked at him a bit puzzled. “No, I don’t think so, just told him to go home alone and that I would be home late.” John chuckled “Then there’s no problem then, is there? You just tell your dad you went to my place to do some Maths homework together and everything will be alright!” 

Paul looked at John in total disbelieve. “But that would be lying, John! I can’t lie to my dad! I never lie to my dad! It would be.…..be..….dishonest!” John doubled up with laughter. “Yeah, lying would count as being dishonest, you git! But sometimes you have to bend the truth a little to get what you want, Paul. And if your dad thinks you studied with me, he wouldn’t see me as a bad influence anymore, would he? And then he probably would be okay with you joining the band.” 

Paul’s mind was in turmoil, he hated the idea of lying to his dad, he loved his old man deeply, but John was right. If he told his dad the truth, he most likely would not allow Paul to join John’s band. Whereas if he told this little white lie……The yearning of being in John’s band outshone his bad feelings about not telling the truth to his dad. So he decided to lie.

***

John couldn’t really understand why Paul was so devoted to his father. Maybe not having a father himself caused him to wonder about it, but surely Paul was old enough to make his own decisions, and not simply obey his old man? At least he managed to convince Paul to..….bend the truth a little.

He chuckled, bending the truth sounded so much better than lying. Paul was so upset about lying to his dad, but when John told him to bend the truth a little instead of telling him to lie, it suddenly didn’t seem such a problem anymore and Paul had given in. John returned to Mendips with his head in the clouds. Paul was going to be in his band!

***

As Paul arrived at Pete Shotton’s place, guitar slung around his back, he felt a bit woozy, his heart beating fast, a smile on his face: he was going to play with the Quarrymen for the first time tonight! Band practice, side by side with John, life just couldn’t better. He parked his bike in front of Pete’s house and walked across the back of the house to the old air-shelter, as John had told him to, where they would practice. When his dad had allowed him to join the band (as long as it doesn’t interfere with your homework, son), Paul had been so happy he had engulfed him in an enormous hug. 

Still, he did feel a bit guilty about lying to his dad, and as he didn’t like feeling guilty, he made a promise to himself never to do so again. So he pushed the guilt to the back of his mind and concentrated on what that little bit of “bending the truth”, as John had called it, had resulted in: being allowed to join a real band! He saw John standing outside of the air-shelter, ciggie in hand, blowing smoke in the air. Did John’s face really lit up when he spotted him, or did Paul just imagine that?

***

“Hey guys, listen up. I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of this great little band of ours, the one and only Paul McCartney! And don’t be fooled by his appearance, he may look like he’s just gotten out of his diapers, but he’s got a hell of a voice and is a pretty damn good guitarist, so he’ll be a really good asset to the band.” John introduced Paul to the band members Paul didn’t know yet.

There was Eric on guitar, Rod on banjo, Len on tea chest bass. Paul knew Colin and Pete from school of course, but he now found out they played drums and washboard respectively in the Quarrymen.  
Colin and Pete turned to John, completely flabbergasted. “You want him in the band? It’s one thing you constantly hanging out with him, but another thing to have him join the band, John!” Pete confronted John “He’s much too young, and with that girlish looks of his, we won’t be taken seriously as a band. And by the way, don’t you suppose we all have a say in this?” 

John couldn’t believe his ears! Did they really question his leadership? They hadn’t even heard Paul sing and play! And he didn’t think Paul looked like a girl at all, he just was very, very…...pretty (did you say “pretty” about a bloke?). He felt offended by Pete’s words on Paul’s behalf. As a matter of fact, Paul was drop dead gorgeous, but most surely in a masculine way. And who did Pete think he was anyway, thinking he’d have a say in the band’s membership? He only played the fuckin’ washboard, not something you needed a lot of musical abilities for. 

“Well Pete, since I’m the leader of the band, I’m the one who gets to decide who’s in and who’s out. And Paul is definitely in, ‘cause we need a more competent musician if we want to make it to the top. And if you take the trouble listening to him before you start judging, I’m sure you’ll all agree with me that Paul will be a major asset to the band. Come on Paul, take it away!”

***

Paul looked at the hostile faces of the Quarrymen members. They were all older than him, and John obviously hadn’t told them about him joining the band. He started to feel uneasy and looked down at his shoes, the negative vibes coming his way making him feel a bit shaky. When he suddenly heard John tell him to “take it away” he looked up from his shoes and searched John’s eyes, distress written all over his face. Should he play for a couple of guys who clearly didn’t want him in the band? His self confidence seemed to vanish in the haze, and he really wanted to turn around and leave, but he couldn’t let John down now, could he? 

Hesitantly he took his guitar and started to tune it, causing all the guys, except John, to double up in laughter. “He doesn’t even know how to hold his guitar! He’s holding it the wrong way around!” Eric managed to utter between laughs. Paul casted him an angry look. But with restrained anger kept tuning his guitar. 

“Never seen a lefty then? You must have been living on another planet then” he said in an ice cold voice, and then he started to play “Twenty Flight Rock” putting his heart and soul into the song and focusing on John. He was singing just for him, ignoring the others, he couldn’t care less about the others, only John seemed to exist. He finished the song and he saw John beam and then he registered the others, mouths ajar, looking at him in awe. “Well then, that’s settled then, Paul’s in” John said. “Let’s start practicing.”

***

John was proud. Paul, his Paul, had blown them all away with his meticulous and inspired rendition of Eddie Cochran’s song. His fingers had flown across the frets so easily, and he had rendered a vocal rendition of the song that, in John’s mind at least, had outshone Cochran’s original. And he got all the words right as well. Now that was something that was hard to do for John, remembering the lyrics.

The practice went amazingly well. Paul somehow managed to keep the band playing at the same tempo for an entire song for the first time, and his voice harmonized so perfectly and with great ease with John’s, like it was meant to be. Like they were meant to be. He noticed that his friends were very impressed by Paul and smiled inwardly. He knew Paul would overwhelm them with his musical abilities. Having Paul in the band would make them stronger. And it made John happy. Very happy. And as he glanced at Paul standing there, guitar in hand, smiling happily, he just knew they were going to make it big. He was going to conquer the world, with Paul by his side. Oh yeah, and the others as well of course. 

He looked around at all of his friends’ faces, some of them he had known since primary school. They had fun playing together, but weren’t very serious about it. Would they stick together as a band? He really wanted to go to the top and he sensed Paul wanted that too. Both of them were determined to work hard for it and put other things aside for their dream. But would his old friends be willing to do the same? Well, John decided, it didn’t really matter as long as he had Paul with him. His Paul.

***

Paul returned home feeling light in his head. After band practice had ended, everybody went home, saying their goodbyes for the night after the appointment was made for another practice next week.   
Paul and John had stayed a little longer, not quite ready to say goodnight yet, both had too much adrenaline running through their bodies. And when John told him he did a great job and that the band had never before sounded so good, Paul was overflowing with happiness; John was proud of him! 

“So I can really join the band then?“ he had asked John eagerly, looking at him with wide expectant eyes. “Absolutely Macca. And I tell you: we’re gonna make it big, you and me. We are made for each other!” 

Paul had blushed, knowing that John surely meant “made for each other musically” but somehow hoping there was a deeper meaning behind John’s words. They had left the air-shelter together and walked down the road amicably, Paul with his bike in hand, both boys with their guitars strapped across their backs. They had said their goodbyes standing in the middle of the street, hesitantly, promising they would see each other at school tomorrow. And then Paul had driven off, feeling light in his head. 

And now he was home, parking his bike in the front garden, entering his front door, calling out to his dad “I’m home!” When his dad asked him how the practice went, Paul couldn’t stop talking: about the songs they played, the way John and himself seemed to harmonize so well, how he had played his guitar almost effortlessly, how he looked forward to the next band practice. “Well, it looks like you’ve had a lot of fun, son, but I think it’s time for bed now, you’ve got school tomorrow.” 

Paul looked up at the clock above the mantelpiece, he noticed it was indeed rather late, time surely flew when you were having fun. “Okay, I’m off to bed then, goodnight dad!” and he ran up the stairs, still feeling like he was walking on clouds, until his feet suddenly seemed to hit the ground with a hard thud when his dad called after him “Oh Paul, I almost forgot to tell you: I’ll be working late again tomorrow, so Mr. Maxwell will be here after school, son.”


	8. A HORRIBLE NIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy.....
> 
> Paul has a horrible night in this chapter, but there's also some news that makes him really happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

When John, Pete and Colin arrived at school, John’s friends had just about had it with John’s endless chatter about Paul. He had gone on and on about the guy’s guitar playing, about his amazing singing voice, how he had known all the words and chords to the songs they had practiced, better than the rest of the band, even though they had been playing them for months, how the band already sounded so much better with Paul in it, that Paul was a real professional...... 

John didn’t really notice that Pete and Colin clearly had enough of his never ending praise of Paul and was rather flabbergasted when his friends made themselves scarce the minute they had gotten off the bus. He wondered what had gotten in to them, feeling a bit offended, being left standing there, muttering some angry words, as he started to make his way to the school’s entrance. 

His face brightened up considerably when he saw the subject of all his praise standing there on top of the stairs: Paul. He rushed up the stairs, grinning like mad, and shouted out to him “Good morning Macca, hope you recovered well from the most amazing night of your life!” Did he just see Paul blush?

***

“Sorry John, but I really got a lot of homework to do, so you can’t come to my place today” Paul was sure he saw disappointment in John’s eyes as he told his friend they wouldn’t be spending time together after school. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, alright?” and then he rushed off to the bus together with Mike and George, leaving John standing alone at the bottom of the stairs. On the bus George kept talking about that new chord he had learned to play, trying to explain it to Paul, but Paul didn’t really pay attention, thoughts of what was surely about to happen later that evening occupying his mind. 

After saying goodbye to his friend, feeling a bit guilty for not having listened to a word George had said, he and Mike walked towards their house together. “Are you alright Paul? You seem awfully quite” he suddenly heard his brother ask. “Just a bit of a headache, nothing to worry about Mikey.”

Mr. Maxwell was already standing in the doorway, waiting for them. Mike entered first, throwing a happy “Hello, Mr. Maxwell, did you have a good day today?” at the man. When Paul followed his brother inside, he felt a hand squeezing his arse. “Yes I did Mike” Mr. Maxwell answered the younger boy’s question, and Paul more felt then heard a heated voice gasping in his ear, “And it’s going to be even better later on.”

***

John was disappointed, he had really been looking forward to working on some song lyrics together with Paul and talk about what songs they were going to practice with the band next time. But here he was, left standing alone for the second time this day. Why did Paul always put his homework first? How could he consider homework more important than spending time with him? He didn’t feel like going home, so he decided to head for the record shop, to listen to some new music and maybe nick some records. He would see Paul tomorrow. But tomorrow seemed such a long time way......

***

Mike had gone to bed, and Paul had read to him, like he had always done since their mum had died. She had always read to her two young sons before they’d gone to sleep, their dad not being very good at reading bedtime stories. 

So Paul, being only eight years old when they lost their mum, had taken on the task of reading a bedtime story for his five year old brother, doing funny voices and such. It always cheered Mike up, and it made Paul feel a little better as well. Mike, being 12 now, was actually a bit too old for a bedtime story, but he insisted Paul read to him, relishing the warm, melodic voice of his older brother just before he went to sleep. “Night Mike, time to sleep now, see you in the morning.” 

He closed the door to Mike’s bedroom and lingered in the hallway. God, he wished he could disappear now. Maybe he could just climb out of the window, down the drainpipe and run away? But where would he go? To George’s? Or maybe to John’s? But no, he couldn’t. He couldn’t run away and leave Mike alone with Mr. Maxwell. Just the thought of what the man could do to his little brother made Paul feel nauseous. His feet felt heavy as he dragged himself towards his own bedroom, knowing that horrible man would be waiting for him. 

He opened the door, seeing Mr. Maxwell sitting on his bed, throwing Paul a wicked smile. “You know the drill, Paul, clothes off” he told him, unbuckling his own belt and lowering his pants, showing his semi-erect cock. Paul felt his blood run cold as with shivering hands he started to take his clothes of. “On your knees, boy.” Paul silently obeyed, knowing by now there was no use in objecting. His head now in front of the man’s erection, the man grabbed Paul’s hair and pulled his head back, causing Paul’s mouth to open. 

“Suck it” he ordered as he shoved his cock in Paul’s mouth. He immediately started a fierce rhythm, pushing himself deep into Paul’s mouth, causing Paul to gag while tears sprung to his eyes. He hated it, really, really hated it, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had to go along, or else the man would go after Mike. The man pulled his hair, looking down on him, fucking his mouth, groaning deeply “That’s it my boy, that’s it, such a pretty sight seeing those lips around my cock, God, you’re such a pretty thing. I think I’m lubed up well enough now.” 

He pulled out off Paul’s mouth, and Paul gasped for air, coughing, the tears now running down his cheeks. He was pulled to his feet and the man kissed his lips fiercely, then shoved Paul on his bed and ordered him to lie on his back. He pushed Paul’s legs apart, his fingers digging painfully in his thighs, and up in the air, as he positioned himself between Paul’s legs. Paul tried to brace himself for what was about to happen, but he had never managed to get used to the piercing pain when the man entered him with force, pushing all the way in to his defenceless body in one go, causing Paul to cry out in pain. 

His abuser anticipated it however, having raped Paul so many times, and placed a big, strong hand over Paul’s mouth and nose, choking him, and started to fuck Paul in a steady, fierce way, groaning and calling him names “You little slut, you’re so fuckin’ tight, I’m gonna screw your brains out, you dirty little whore!” 

Paul struggled to get some air, trying to fight off the man on top of him, to escape the painful penetration, but he wasn’t strong enough. His lungs started to hurt as he tried in vain to fill them with air. He started to see spots before his eyes, feeling himself slip way, thinking that this time he would not survive. Just before he was about to lose consciousness though, Mr. Maxwell groaned loudly and he felt the man come inside of him, loosening his grip on Paul’s mouth and nose. Paul frantically gasped for air, as the man pulled out of his body, feeling fluid slowly sipping out of his burning butt. 

“That was just as amazing as always. You’re such a beautiful bitch, such a great fuck. I love it when you struggle like that, you’re so bloody tight!” He smiled wickedly at Paul, naked, bruised, abused, with tearstained cheeks. “I guess I don’t have to remind you to keep your mouth shut, do I? You would end up in jail, committing such a dirty criminal sexual act. And believe me, such a pretty, young thing as you, with such a gorgeous arse, would not survive jail for long.” Mr. Maxwell pulled up his trousers and left the room, leaving a shattered, shivering Paul on the bed.

***

Paul wasn’t at school today and John felt betrayed. Paul told him he’d see him at school today and now he didn’t bother to show up? After standing John up yesterday as well? He cornered Mike to question him about it, but only found out that Paul was sick. Again. Well, he was not having any of that. Sick, my arse! So John decided to skip school again, nothing important to learn there anyway, and headed to Forthlin Road; he would get the boy out of his bed in no time! 

After knocking the door in vain, just like before, he decided to throw pebbles at Paul’s windows again. Nothing happened. He tried again. He didn’t see any movement. From the corner of his eyes he saw the drainpipe, which ran just past Paul’s window. He decided to climb it and knock on the window. Huffing and puffing he reached the window, knocking on it fiercely, shouting angrily: “Paul if you don’t open up your window right now, I’ll fall down and die a horrible death, and you will have to explain to the police that you let a helpless man fall to his death, because you refused to let me in!” Suddenly the curtains moved, and Paul’s face appeared.

John almost lost his grip on the drainpipe. Paul looked......horrible. Dark circles underneath his red eyes, looking exhausted and well......sick. He felt his anger slip away and begged to be let in: “I can’t hold on much longer Paul, please let me in?” Paul moved to open the window, and John tried to get in, but somehow didn’t manage to do so. His climbing-the-drainpipe-to-get-through-the-window-skills didn’t seem exactly up to date. 

Paul watched him struggle and then deadpanned: “You need a hand?” John thought he was about to explode; he was dangling dangerously on the drainpipe, about to fall to his death, and the boy asked him if he needed a hand? “Fuck, Paul, help me in, you git!” Paul reached out a hand and somehow they managed to get John inside. John hoped nobody had seen him struggle, that would be so embarrassing! 

“Well Macca”, he panted, “that was about fuckin’ time! Maybe you could just open the door next time when I knock?” He looked at the younger boy, standing there in his pyjamas, his face pale, but blushes on his cheeks. “Well Lennon, I didn’t exactly expect any visitors, since I’m sick in bed and you’re supposed to be at school. What is it with you coming around every time I’m home sick, anyway?” John heard Paul’s voice quiver, his face growing even paler, as he looked about to collapse. John caught him just in time. “Fuck, Paul, steady son, maybe you better lie down.” Paul looked at him with weary eyes. “That was exactly what I was doing before you decided to disturb my rest, John"

***

Paul had tried to ignore the knocking on the door and then the pebbles being thrown at his window. John, it had to be John. Paul groaned, he was in no condition to see anybody, and he certainly wasn’t capable of being good company to John. He startled when he heard a knock on his window and John calling out for him. He sighed and managed to get out of bed, pain rushing through his lower body, and made his way to the window. 

He really wanted John to leave so he could go to sleep again, but seeing John kind of dangle on the drainpipe, which really looked quite laughable, he knew he had no choice but to let him in. The effort he made pulling John in, made him feel dizzy and he almost collapsed to the ground, only to be rescued by John’s arms. John helped him to his bed, looking rather worried.

”Listen John, I’m really not feeling very well, and I’d like to go back to sleep. So do you mind going back to school? I’m sure I’ll be fine and ready to go to school tomorrow if I rest today.” John looked at him sceptically and suddenly raised his hand and touched Paul’s face, almost causing Paul to jump. “Where did you get those bruises?” John asked, running his thumb over Paul’s cheek. 

Paul felt nauseous again, his mind searching for a credible answer, but only coming up with “I bumped into the door.” He could see in John’s eyes that he didn’t believe him. “What the fuck is going on Paul? Did your father hit you?” Astonished Paul looked at John “My dad hit me? What on earth makes you think that? Dad would never lay a hand on me! Now could you please leave and let me go back to sleep? I will see you in school tomorrow, alright?” 

John walked over to the window, planning on leaving the same way he came in. “You can use the front door, you idiot” Paul chuckled “Less risk of falling to your death that way. Just close the door on your way out.” John grinned. “Okay, okay, I’ll leave, but you better be at school tomorrow, Macca, or I’ll come knocking on your window again!”

When Paul heard the front door close, he curled up in bed again, totally exhausted. John had clearly been worried about him and had looked at him suspiciously. He couldn’t let John find out what had happened, he would be so ashamed if John knew what Mr. Maxwell did to him. He probably would find him utterly disgusting and would put an end to their friendship. Paul couldn’t bear to lose John’s friendship, it was the only ray of light in his dark world. He closed his eyes and just before he fell asleep he had a strange sensation of John stroking his cheek. It made him sigh and he relaxed as sleep took over his body, still feeling John’s fingers on his skin.

***

Something was wrong. He felt it in his bones. This was the second time in a couple of weeks that Paul suddenly had been sick, while nothing seemed to have been wrong the day before. And those bruises......John thought back at the last time Paul had been sick. The bloodstains on his sheets......Should he have confronted Paul about that? But he probably would have told him to mind his own business, or worse, end their friendship because he found John just to be a little bit queer! John couldn’t bear to lose Paul’s friendship. He had never felt so close to somebody in his entire life. There was this overwhelming feeling they somehow belonged together. So he’d better not talk to Paul about his worries and pretend everything was okay. He felt a tickling feeling on his fingertips. The fingertips that had caressed Paul’s cheek.

***

Next day, Paul was back in school, and apart from the bruises on his cheeks, he looked to be as right as rain. They went back to Paul’s place after school and talked about the songs they were going to practice with the band. They worked on a song together, Paul writing down the lyrics in an old notebook and they interacted as if nothing was wrong, laughing and joking and just having a good time.

The days flew by and their next band practice went well. The other band members seemed to have accepted Paul in the band, and it was fun playing together. 

A few days later, John, waiting at the Inny’s door in the morning, as he was grown accustomed to, greeted Paul with more excitement than usual. “Guess what, Macca, we’re booked for a gig on Saturday evening! You’re gonna have your first stage appearance with the almighty Quarrymen!” Paul’s eyes widened and big smile adorned his face “You’re joking! We’re actually gonna perform before an audience? And we’re getting paid as well?” Paul couldn’t remember being so excited about something in his life ever before. Performing for an audience, his ultimate dream would come true! And what’s more, he would be performing with John; things could hardly be any better than that! 

“We’ve gotta make a set list, John, decide which songs we’re gonna play, who sings what, work out the arrangements, make sure we know all the words and chords, and......and......we’re gonna have to schedule an extra band practice, John, because we have to make sure it’s the best performance of our lives, because you never know who will come and see us, and......and......” Paul looked at his friend, almost out of breath with all the words he just uttered. 

“You’re quite excited, aren’t you, mate?” John gave him the widest grin Paul had ever seen on his face. “What about we’re going back to your place and work on the set list and arrangements, and then I will call the guys later to schedule an extra practice tomorrow night. If we work out everything today, then tomorrow it’s just about practicing what we two have decided on. Saves time.” 

Paul looked at John in total bewilderment. Did John just suggest that they skip school together to work out their set list? He couldn’t just skip school like that, could he? That would be......would be......What would his teachers say? What if his dad found out he played hooky? He looked at John, panicked, to see if John had really said that or if he had just imagined it, but John just smiled at him, grabbed his arm and propelled him off the stairs. 

Paul tried to resist, but not with much dedication. He was going to perform with John, and as the two front men they had to work things out before the band practice, right? They we’re going to earn some wages after all. His dad could hardly object about him earning money now, could he? Surely he would understand his son skipping school for that, wouldn’t he? Paul pushed away all negative thoughts as he let John lead him away from school. He was going to play with John......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your comments!


	9. SWEET SIXTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> In this chapter Paul celebrates an important birthday. But sadly there's bad news for John.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

As it turned out, nobody seemed to have noticed Paul skipped school. His teachers just assumed he had called in sick, it didn’t occur to them that the polite, hardworking and dutiful McCartney boy would be able to skip school. So the news of his absence never reached his dad. John and Paul had worked out a set list, had worked on some harmonies and after a band practice that fared reasonably well, Saturday arrived. 

Paul had been jittery all day, he was looking forward to their performance, yes, but at the same time the nerves really started to kick in. John and the other guys had already performed numerous times together, but to Paul playing before an audience was something completely new. Weird how something he’d been dreaming about for so long, could make him so bloody nervous. His dad noticed just how high strung he was when he snapped at him when he asked if he would like a cup of tea at breakfast, and Mike shrank back when Paul snarled at him to shut the fuck up, when he was humming a happy tune. Then dad got on his back about using the F-word (“we don’t use such words in this household, Paul”) and Paul fled upstairs. 

He fell down on his bed, burying his head in his pillow, groaned and after a while he contemplated calling John to tell him he’d come down with a severe cold and wouldn’t be able to play with the band tonight. He startled and sat up when his bedroom door suddenly flew open and John rushed in “Get up and get dressed Macca, you don’t want to be late for the first gig of your life!” Paul plopped down in his pillow again and groaned “What are you doing here, John?” John pulled the covers off of Paul “Came to take you to our gig, mate, wanted to make sure you didn’t get cold feet and stand me and the guys up.” 

Paul tried to pull the covers over his body again, but John had a firm grip on them and didn’t let Paul crawl back under them. “John, I don’t think I can do it! I’ll mess everything up! I’ll forget the chords, I’ll forget the words, my strings will break, my voice will crack, my….…” John interrupted him, chuckling “Wow, and everything at the same time, how will you manage to do that? Come on Paul, it’s just a little stage fright. You’ll be alright once you’re on that stage!” 

Paul’s breakdown puzzled him, he was always so damn confident when making music, he didn’t even need to look at his fingers when he played his guitar, never getting a chord wrong! And his voice never cracked! “Get out of bed, put your tightest drainies on that sexy arse of yours, and let’s go!”

When he left the house with John by his side, after his dad and Mike had wished him good luck, Paul’s body was still tense but his mind had picked up on one specific thing John had said: he thought he had a sexy arse! Paul couldn’t help but blushing at that thought.

***

The performance was a great success. Everything went smoothly and the audience was very enthusiastic. Some of the girls had even screamed their names, well mainly Paul’s, but John was sure he had heard his own name as well. After he had introduced the band members, they had started off with “Twenty Flight Rock”, the one Paul had done so well at their first band practice. That had gone down very well and Paul had looked absolutely gorgeous with his long legs in those tight drainies, shaking that arse to the beat of the song. 

When putting together their set list, they had decided to take turns at the lead vocal, so John had sung the next one “Rock ‘n Roll Music”. Paul had suggested they’d do a ballad, “Because that’s what the birds like” and when he started to sing “Till there was you”, John realized that not only birds liked it. He just couldn’t keep his eyes of Paul, looking at the boy’s perfect profile, relishing his smooth voice. 

After a few more songs they finished with Buddy Holly’s “Peggy Sue” singing in harmony together. They shared a mic singing that song, and John had seen the sheer joy in Paul’s eyes as their voices blended. And boy, did they blend! John absolutely loved it, and so did the audience if their applause was anything to go by. This was the best performance The Quarrymen had ever given, and it was all, at least in John’s mind, because of Paul. _His Paul._

***

Over the course of the next weeks the band practiced regularly and had a few more gigs. Paul’s stage fright had only been a one-time thing, once he had savoured the thrill of being on stage, he just couldn’t wait for their next gig. He and John were really on fire, especially when they shared a mic.

The only pity was the presence of the other guys. Pete’s washboard didn’t exactly fit their repertoire, since they played rock ‘n roll now instead of skiffle. Len’s tea chest bass wasn’t exactly rock ‘n roll material either. Colin wasn’t a very talented drummer, he could hardly keep time. And what the hell were they supposed to do with a banjo? Rod was a nice guy, but Paul didn’t really know how to fit in a fuckin’ banjo into their rock ‘n roll songs. It just didn’t belong. Eric was alright on guitar, but Paul and he didn’t click very well, Eric always commenting on Paul’s age and refusing any advice from Paul on his guitar playing, since he didn’t “have to listen to a fuckin’ toddler.” 

Paul sighed as he tried to focus on Mr. Durband’s explanation about meter and metaphors in poetry. How could he tell John that if they wanted to get to the top as a rock ‘n roll band, they should get rid of some of their band mates and replace them by more capable musicians? They were John’s long-time friends after all. Maybe he could give John some subtle hints like, “Pitty we only have a tea chest bass, doesn’t sound anything like Bill Black on Elvis’s songs”, or “Banjo’s are really on their way out, aren’t they?” or “Don’t you think Pete’s mum would want her washboard back?” He didn’t hear a word of Mr. Durband’s explanation about stanzas and verses.  


***

John was furious, raging! On the bus to school, Pete had told him he was leaving the band. Just like that, out of the blue, like they hadn’t been playing together for a couple of years! Pete told him he wasn’t really into music all that much and playing in a skiffle band had been okay, but since The Quarrymen had involved into more of a rock ‘n roll band, he felt it was time to quit. Pete was lucky he didn’t have his washboard with him, because John was sure he would have smashed it over his head.

What made it even worse was that the night before he’d had a call from Rod. He and his family were moving to Manchester (Manchester of all places!) so he was leaving the band. He just lost two members of his band within 24 hours! That left him with Eric and Paul on guitar, Colin on drums and Len on tea chest bass. Hmm. If Len could learn to play a real bass guitar, it would be the perfect line-up for a rock ‘n roll band. He didn’t really need Pete and Rod, did he? A washboard and banjo were alright for a skiffle band, but they weren’t really a skiffle band anymore, were they? Since Paul had joined, they had become a rock ‘n roll band more and more, and John loved rock ‘n roll a lot more than skiffle, so he decided not to dwell on the departure of his two old friends. He now had Paul after all. _His Paul._

A couple of days later he decided to tell Len he had to switch to a real bass guitar. Len had looked at him in horror. He told John he had neither the ambition to play a bass guitar, nor the money to buy one. John exploded, told Len where to shove his tea chest bass and fired him on the spot. This was starting to look like Agatha Christie’s “Then there were none”, the way he was losing his band mates one by one. With Len also out of the band, the Quarrymen now only existed of Eric, Colin, Paul and himself. And then there were four.  


***

Paul had to cancel band practice. His dad had to work late again and Mr. Maxwell would come to look after him and Mike. And since he couldn't leave Mike alone with that horrible man, he had to stay at home. When he went down on his knees to take the man’s cock in his mouth he once again tried to numb his mind and body to prepare himself for what would come next. He was ordered to get on his hands and knees this time, and as the man entered him forcefully from behind, his big hands painfully gripping Paul’s hips, he managed not to scream out in pain, biting his lower lip instead until he tasted blood. But at least he wasn’t suffocated to shut him up this time.

He felt the man’s sperm, probably mixed with his own blood, slowly running down his inner thighs when he pulled his cock out of Paul’s young body. And as he crawled away from his abuser, who was putting his now flaccid cock back into his trousers, Paul snapped at him “Hope you enjoyed yourself, since it was the last time you ever laid your hands on me! You will never set one foot in this house again.” And although his body ached, his mind rejoiced. He would turn sixteen next week!  


***

Paul hadn’t been in school the day after his cancelled band practice. John sighed. He had stopped running to Paul every time he had called in sick, since the boy didn’t seem to appreciate it. But Paul skipping band practice hadn’t happened before, Paul always loved playing with the band and he surely wouldn’t stay away if he wasn’t really sick. So maybe he should visit Paul, bring him some oranges or something? No he’d better not, Paul might think John had gone soft in the head.

John didn’t mind the practice was cancelled, since it wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be nowadays, with Eric having left the band, leaving only Paul, Colin and himself. And Colin didn’t even show up half of the time. There hadn’t been any gigs for a long time either, except for that one time he and Paul had performed as a duo, calling themselves The Nerk Twins. They had mainly performed some Everly Brothers songs and a few by Buddy Holly. That had been a lot of fun, but nevertheless they both decided being in a band was better. Most rock ‘n roll songs simply needed a band. 

Another thought crossed his mind. It was Paul’s birthday next week. What would he get him? He wanted to give him something that would show Paul how important he was to him, without showing him he was maybe just a little bit too important in John’s life. So what did you give your best friend without making it clear you might want to be more than just friends? But that would still show him how much he appreciated him? 

John was faced with a real dilemma there. Giving him a piece of jewellery, like a bracelet or something, would be too intimate. But giving him some plectrums seemed rather stand-offish and cold. Well, he’ll better spend some more time thinking about it, but he should make a decision soon. Paul was going to be sixteen next week after all.  


***

George had come by and had given him some guitar strings. They always came in handy, so Paul was happy with his present. His dad had given him a new jumper, not exactly the most appropriate present for a summertime birthday, but it would come in handy when the days would get colder in the autumn and it was a nice dark blue colour. His aunties had knitted him a winter cap with a matching scarf and mittens. What was it with winter presents when his birthday was in June? Mike had bought him the newest Little Richard single, and Paul had hugged him gratefully.

Even Ivan, celebrating his own birthday on the same day, had dropped by and presented him with a music magazine with Elvis on the cover, which Paul really loved. Paul in return had bought Ivan a pencil sharpener, because he always borrowed Paul’s ever since his own one had broken a couple of weeks ago. He had also added a new eraser. He had been so excited to see John arrive, full of anticipation about the present his best friend would give him. He was a bit disappointed when the package revealed some guitar picks, but he tried not to show it. 

The party was in full swing, when John asked him to go up to his bedroom, since he thought he had left his jacket there last time. Paul was pretty sure John hadn’t even been wearing a jacket last time, the temperatures being really high for the time of year, but he went up with John anyway. After looking around in his room (in vain of course) John suddenly presented him with a rather haphazardly wrapped present. 

Paul had no idea where he had been hiding it, but accepted it excitedly and looked at John with a big happy smile. It was rectangular and rather heavy. He unwrapped it eagerly and the wrapping revealed a beautiful sky blue note book with a shiny hard cover, with lots of pages. 

“I noticed your old notebook, you know the one in which you write down our songs, was almost full, so I thought I’d buy you a new one, I’ve written something inside” John told him, looking a bit.…..shy.  


Shy? John Lennon shy? Paul opened the notebook. “To Paul, may we write a lifetime of Lennon/McCartney originals in this together. All the best, John.” Paul granted John his brightest smile “Thanks Johnny, it’s fantastic”. It was the most beautiful present he had all day. That and the fact he had turned sixteen. Sixteen! No more Mr. Maxwell from now on. Paul couldn’t be happier.  


***

John had finally settled on a beautiful sky blue note book. Blue was Paul’s favourite colour, and it had lots of pages for Paul to write down their song lyrics in his neat handwriting. He wanted to write a dedication on the first page, but everything he thought of seemed to be too corny, too revealing, too sentimental, too personal. When he had finally settled on a text, he almost finished with “Love, John”, but managed to stop himself writing that just in time. 

Paul had flashed him one of his full on Macca smiles, and had called him “Johnny”. John had butterflies running through his entire body. “Johnny”. Nobody had ever called him that and it made his head twirl. It had sounded like music coming from Paul’s mouth. “Johnny”. He hoped Paul would never ever stop calling him that.  


***

A couple of weeks later, Paul sat at the piano in the small living room. He was playing a wistful tune he had come up with some time ago, thinking about how difficult his life was after another night of abuse and missing his mum desperately. Dad worked late today, but he hadn’t arranged for Mr. Maxwell to look after his two sons. After all, he had told Paul he would be allowed to look after himself and his brother as soon as he turned sixteen. 

Even though his fingers played a sad song, he didn’t feel sad at all. No more Mr. Maxwell! No more pain, fear, disgust and shame. He felt so relieved! And having John in his life was so amazing. He always felt so happy when they were together. Talking, writing, playing, singing, performing, being with him, even just thinking about him……. And although his feelings for John confused him, he was a bloke after all and he shouldn’t have this kind of feelings for another bloke, he knew deep down that he loved John. He smiled as he thought of John, his auburn hair, those almond shaped eyes, that aquiline nose that made him look like a Roman Emperor……..

Paul startled when somebody knocked the door frantically. He got up to answer the door and was engulfed in a fierce hug. John was clinging to him desperately, sobbing “She’s gone Paul, she’s gone! He just ran her over! I’m never going to see her again!” John’s fingers clawed painfully at Paul’s back, but he was too shocked about the state his friend was in, to say anything about it. “What are you talking about Johnny, who’s gone?” John let out a desperate cry “My mum, Paul! My mum’s dead!”


	10. JULIA, GEORGE, PETE AND STU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> So this is chapter 10 already! A goodbye to a loved one, and a hello to new band members. And in comes a new friend.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John had introduced Paul to his mum months ago. He wanted Julia to meet the secret love of his life, he wanted her to get to know the one person in his life that made him so indescribably happy. He wanted her to meet _his_ Paul. Julia had taken to Paul straight away. 

“I don’t think I have ever seen such a beautiful boy before, John. He is absolutely stunning, don’t you think so?” John had shrugged, he absolutely agreed with his mum, but could hardly tell her so! “And he’s such a talented guitarist. And that voice! It really melts your heart when he’s singing, doesn’t it John?” she had told him after Paul had played and sung “Love me tender” for her. 

John had been so enamoured by Paul, he’d hardly heard his mother. Oh how he wished Paul would sing that song for him! He managed a small “I suppose so” when he caught his mother watching him with a strange look in her eyes. She and Paul had spent the rest of the afternoon laughing, singing, joking and having fun together. 

“What a lovely boy your Paul is. His parents must be very proud of him” she had said after Paul went home. “He’s only got a father, his mum died years ago” John had replied. “Oh that poor boy! Losing your mum at a young age must be so difficult. He must be very sad sometimes; I hope you’re able to give him some comfort when he needs it.” 

Comfort. That’s what John needed right now. He needed Paul’s arms, Paul’s soothing voice, Paul’s understanding. Mimi had told him his mum had been in a fatal car-accident, she had been run down by an off-duty policeman when she crossed Menlove Avenue. John had screamed his lungs out in sheer agony. This couldn’t happen to him! He had screamed and cried uncontrollably, while Mimi tried to calm him down, but all her efforts were in vain. He felt completely and utterly shattered. He needed……he needed……Paul. He needed Paul! 

He had run out of the house, tears streaming down his cheeks, wind blowing through his hair, in search for the only person in the world who could help him. The only one who would understand him and would be able to comfort him. He needed Paul.  


***

“Dead? Julia’s dead? Johnny? Johnny? Your mum’s dead?” Paul was horrified, he’d only seen John’s vibrant red-haired mum two days ago. It was always such fun being around her, she loved music, dancing, joking and always called him “my lovely boy”. She didn’t really seem like a mother though, more like a very cool older sister. John had told him their story, how he was raised by his aunt because his mother wasn’t capable of doing so when he was little, but how he and Julia had built a relationship when he got older.

And while Mimi was loving but stern, Julia was a free-spirit, with her long red hair, flower dresses and an open view at life. She loved it when he and John sang together and never complained about the noise they made when they were playing their guitars, unlike Mimi. On the contrary, she sang along and danced to their music, swirling her dress around and a beatific smile on her face. And now that woman, that woman that had been so full of life, was dead? Gone forever? 

John kept sobbing on his shoulder, his fingers still painfully digging in his back, and Paul held him tightly, tears running down his own cheeks. Tears for Julia, tears for John, tears for his own mum, tears for himself. Why was the world so fuckin’ unfair? 

He knew from his own experience that the pain of losing your mother would never go away. The sharp pain would somewhat soften as time went by, but it would always be there, like a wound that would never quite heal. So he didn’t tell John that everything would be alright, that would be telling a lie. John didn’t need lies, he needed honesty. And Paul would give him that. So he just held John close as he cried together with him.  


***

John was angry. Angry at the whole world. After Julia’s funeral everybody had come back to Mimi’s house. Uncles, aunts, his school friends and ex-band mates. All ex-band mates now, since Colin had left as well. Everybody was leaving him, nobody wanted him, he was unlovable. His father, uncle George, Pete, Colin, Eric, Rod, Len, everybody abandoned him. Even his mother had left him. Why on earth was he still alive when nobody wanted him? He was in pain and life around him just kept on going as if nothing had happened.

The house was filled with people eating and drinking. Laughing even. People had come up to him, telling him everything would be alright, that things would get better, that he would get used to it. They didn’t understand how it felt to lose his mother, nobody did! He just wanted them all to leave the house and leave him alone! He started shouting at everybody to get the fuck out of the house, started throwing glasses, cups, saucers......Everybody hurried way, and when they had all left, John just fell to his knees and cried. Nobody understood what he was going through, nobody felt his pain.

“Johnny?”A tentative voice, a hand on his shoulder. “I will never see her again! My heart aches so much, how am I supposed to go on? Will this pain ever end?” The hand caressed his hair. “The pain will never go way, Johnny. You will learn how to go on, but the pain will always be there, in the back of your mind, in the depths of your heart. But life will go on, because that’s what life does. And sometimes something will happen that will cause the pain to emerge again in full, but you will push it back and go on, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. And nobody understands how empty and lost you feel, because everybody expects you to resume your life after a while and carry on. So that’s what you do, you know, because that’s what’s expected of you. And you think there’s nobody you can share that pain with. But you know what Johnny? I’m here. I understand. I will always be here. You can talk to me, I will listen, I will understand. Always.” 

The hand never stopped caressing his hair. John finally stopped sobbing. He slowly stood up, his cheeks tearstained, and looked in the eyes that were so familiar, so full of compassion, so full of knowing, so beautiful.……. “Paul” he whispered, and he hugged him like he was never going to let him go.  


***

In the weeks that followed, John found it hard to get on with his life, staying in bed, not going to school. Paul came around most every day after school. They listened to music, lying on John’s bed. Paul didn’t say stupid things like “It’s time for you to go back to school” or “It’s time to pick up your life again” or “You should be over it by now”. Paul just spent hours listening to John talking about Julia, not saying a word, just listening and absorbing John’s pain.

Paul understood John’s pain. Because Paul had lived John’s pain. And was still living it. Sometimes John cried, and Paul cried with him, holding him close, sharing his pain. And slowly, oh so slowly, John got back on his feet. And the bond between the two young men, that had been strong before, now seemed to be unbreakable, for they shared scars nobody else had. 

Before Julia’s untimely death, Paul had been talking to John about letting George into the band. “We need another guitarist now Eric has left, Johnny. And maybe we should try to find a real bass player as well.” John had objected, saying that George was far too young. “He’s just as old as I was when I joined the band, and he is a real good guitarist, much better than Eric. You could at least listen to him before rejecting him, I’m sure that once you’ve heard him play, you’ll agree with me that he’ll be a great asset to the band.” 

But then Colin had left and Julia had died and with John staying in bed for weeks, there hadn’t been an opportunity yet for George to audition. But since John was now back on his feet again, Paul decided to raise the question with John again. “Well John, we’re not only short of a bass player, but also of a drummer and a guitarist right now, actually were not even a band, really, with the complete lack of a complete rhythm section, so the two of us really should start looking for some new band members if we want to continue as a band. And I think asking George to join us would be a good start. Now I know you still think he’s too young, but just give him a listen, okay?”  


***

Paul, of course, was right. John should have known that. Paul was always right when it came to music, the guy had more music in his little pinkie than John had in his whole body. John chuckled, wondering how much music Paul had in his other body parts......He wouldn’t mind finding out, that’s for sure! He tried to shake off the mental image of a naked Paul under his hands, when the young man in question walked in. John let his eyes wander across Paul’s body. God, the guy was stunning! If only he could rip of his clothes and......”

......don’t you think so?” Paul looked at him questioningly, his doe eyes swirling with colours. “Do you know your eyes change colour all the time? Sometimes they’re green, sometimes brown, sometimes hazel and sometimes all the colours swirl together like a kaleidoscope, with gold and black spots. I’ve never seen that before on anybody, how do you do that?” 

Paul was a bit confused. He’d asked John if they should place an advertisement in the newspaper in their search for a bass player and a drummer, and John had answered by talking about his eyes? “I’m not aware of doing anything with my eyes John. But I do want to know what we’re gonna do about finding a drummer and bass player. I think placing an advertisement in the newspaper would be a good idea, don’t you think so?” 

John looked at Paul pensively. As a band they were in desperate need for a rhythm section, but on the other hand, he also liked playing with just Paul. Oh yeah, and George of course. But they were not likely to get any gigs as a band without at least a drummer. “What about that guy who’s mum owns the Casbah? I’ve heard he plays drums and he’s not in any band as far as I know. Maybe we can ask him. What’s his name again, Pierce Best?”

Paul frowned “It’s Pete, I believe, and isn’t he in this band called The Black Jacks?” John grinned “The Black Jacks? Have you heard them play? Their absolutely horrific! I’m sure he would much rather play with two amazing musicians like you and me, Paul.” Paul sighed “Three musicians, John. It’s you, me and George now remember? Do I have to keep you reminding of that?” John made a face, he’d kind of forgotten about the skinny lad that looked more like a 12 year old instead of 15 and who had joined because Paul had insisted. “Alright, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist, Macca. The three of us.” John gave Paul a wide grin “So you better get that nice arse of yours out of here and go tell Mr. Best to leave that lousy band he’s playing in and join the amazing Quarrymen!”  


***

So Paul went by the Best house to ask Pete if he would consider joining the Quarrymen, and Pete did agree to audition for them, but when the day arrived for the audition, Paul wasn’t able to attend. That morning Paul’s dad had told him he would work late. But when Paul told him he and John were having an audition for a drummer that evening, his dad told him not to worry, he’d ask Mr. Maxwell to look after Mike. Paul’s blood turned cold. Not to worry!? How could he not be worried? He couldn’t let Mr. Maxwell look after Mike! The thought of that awful man doing to his younger brother what he had been doing to him for so many years made him feel nauseous.

“You don’t have to ask him, dad, I’ll stay home with Mike and we’ll reschedule the audition.” “There’s no need to do that, son, I’m sure Mr. Maxwell would love to look after Mike.” Yeah, I’m sure he would, Paul thought bitterly. “No, dad, it’s alright, I’m feeling a bit tired, so I’d rather stay at home anyway. I’ll give John a call to tell him to set another date for the audition.” 

He didn’t expect John to explode, however, when he told him he wouldn’t be able to make it for the audition and to make a new appointment with Pete. He started shouting at him, calling him names. “Who the hell do you think you are McCartney? Cancelling at the last minute? And you don’t even have a good explanation either. Looking after Mike, that’s about the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard! The kid is, what, 13? I’m sure he can look after himself, or your dad can arrange for a babysitter! Your first priority lies with our band, you fucker! You seem to think the whole world revolves around you, you don’t think about anyone but yourself, you selfish bastard! Well you better call Best yourself, see if he’s willing to reschedule, and if he doesn’t want to, I’m holding you responsible for us not having a drummer and I will make you drum yourself!” and with that John slammed down the phone. 

John’s words shocked Paul, he wasn’t used John taking it out on him. On others, yeah, all of the time, but not on him. And it was so unfair! He wasn’t selfish, was he? He was looking after his little brother for heaven’s sake! Why did John have to be so angry about it? Paul sighed, as he picked up the phone to call Pete.  


***

As it turned out, Pete didn’t mind rescheduling and after he auditioned for John and Paul a few days later (no need for Harrison to be here, John decided) he was deemed good enough to join The Quarrymen. They had practiced together a few times, but when the new school year had started, band practices became fewer and fewer.

John had started at the Art College next door to the Liverpool Institute and he loved it. He was a student now, not a schoolboy, and there were so many interesting people there! He would still have lunch with Paul and George sometimes; they would climb over the wall separating the two schools to do so, but he didn’t spend all his time after school with Paul anymore as he used to do. As a student he couldn’t really be seen with two schoolboys all the time, could he? That would damage his reputation!

And what’s more, he made some new friends, the most important one being Stuart Sutcliffe, the Art School’s most promising student. Not that he had stopped thinking about Paul, not at all, he still felt butterflies every time he saw that gorgeous boy or even when he’d just think of him. But it wasn’t like they were “meant to be” or something, were they? They were both blokes after all, and Paul was surely not interested in him that way, he could have any bird he wanted with a face like his! 

So he decided it was best to keep a little more distance, limiting their meetings solely to the ones needed for band practice or the occasional gig. Not realizing how much his decision hurt Paul. And himself, because deep down he knew he’d fallen in love with that alluring boy. Paul, _his_ Paul.


	11. STUART

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> So Stuart enters their life and the band. Paul is not a happy camper. But is John happy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul sighed as he disconnected the phone. He’d asked John if he could come over to write some songs, but John had other plans. As he did the day before, and the day before and…..well Paul could hardly recall when John last had made time for him. Yeah, he’d seen him at their scarce band practices and a gig or two, and sometimes they had lunch together, although Paul always ended up talking to George at those lunch meetings, since John seemed totally engrossed in that older student, Stu or something. But they didn’t meet after school anymore, like they did last school year, practicing new chords, writing songs. 

He looked at his notebook, the one John had given him on his birthday, and stared at the lines John had written on the first page: “To Paul, may we write a lifetime of Lennon/McCartney originals in this together. All the best, John.” Well there weren’t that many Lennon/McCartney originals to write down in it nowadays, were there? 

Paul missed his afternoons with John. He loved playing with him, singing with him, writing with him, just being with him. Why did John suddenly seem so, so…....so cold towards him? What did he do wrong? He’d suddenly gone from being John’s number one friend to somebody who was just dangling at the bottom. Spending time with John had made him so happy, it brought light in the darkness of his life, made him go on when sometimes he just wanted to end it all. Why had John become so important to him? And although he tried hard to deny it to himself, because it was wrong, a crime, a sin, deep down he knew it was because he’d fallen in love with John.

***

John had a great idea, a marvellous idea, a funkin’ awesome idea! Stu had sold some of his paintings and had quite a bit of money on his hands. John wanted him to buy a bass guitar and join the band. That way the band would have their much desired bass player and John would have his new best friend in the band. The fact that Stu was as a-musical as can be, and probably didn’t even know how to hold the instrument let alone play it, didn’t matter to John. He could learn how to play, right?

So he sold the idea to Stu, providing him with all off the pros (but none of the cons of course) of playing in a band, most importantly: pulling birds. He managed to convince Stu, so the band had their first real bass player. All he had to do is teach Stu to play the bloody instrument. And tell Paul of course. Yeah that might be a little thing. Well it was _his_ band after all, so if Paul didn’t like it, he’d tell him where to shove it! 

He’d told Stu to come to the band practice tonight. That way it would be a fait accompli, the others would just have to accept it. He met with Stu at a bar before going to Pete’s house, where they always practiced, and the two of them had a little bit too much to drink (just a tiny bit too much). When they arrived, Paul, George and Pete were already there, chatting amicably together. But as John announced “Guys, meet our new bass player” with a voice that sounded a bit drunk (just a little bit), he saw Paul’s eyes widen. Those fuckin’ kaleidoscope eyes, that suddenly turned very dark as he looked from John to Stu and back to John. 

“Our new bass player? When did he turn into bass player? Does he even know what a bass looks like? Don’t the rest of us have a say in this? Since we have to play with him too?” Paul’s voice, usually so happy and musical, sounded low and full of restrained anger. “What’s your problem Paulie, you’ve been going on about us needing a bass player, and now we have one! So I don’t see why you’re being such a dick about it” John slurred. Paul couldn’t believe his ears! “We need a _bass player_ , John, not fuckin’ painter!” 

As Paul didn’t usually swear, it occurred to John that Paul was actually very angry. That in turn made John mad. After all, this was his band. “Well mate, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to stay, you know, nobody’s twisting your arm!” George suddenly interrupted “John, don’t be daft! We need Paul in the band!” John turned his head to face George “Georgie Porgie standing up for little Paulie? How touching! Well if you don’t like it you can leave together with him. Stu joins the band, whether you like it or not! Now let’s practice!”

***

Paul stared at the ceiling. He’d plopped down on his bed, fully clothed, trembling, after his return from band practice. Well, if you could call it band practice. The bloody painter had absolutely no idea what he was doing! And John had gone on and on about Stu: “He’s learning so fast, isn’t he?” and “Can you believe he’s never played an instrument before and how well he already plays?” Paul had to restrain himself from hitting John in the face. The painter hadn’t played one note right! He had just produced a….....a noise. How could John be so deaf?

But Paul didn’t want to be thrown out of the band, so he had just kept his mouth shut and had cycled home full of rage, the anger causing his whole body to tremble. And now he was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, still trembling. What was he going to do? He really didn’t like having Stuart in the band. Apart from not being able to play bass at all, he would also have to deal with him in the only place where he still was John’s number one: the band. He already had to give up his spot as John’s best friend to Stu in all other regions of John’s life, now he had to give up his spot in the band as well? The only place he still had John’s attention? 

Paul felt tears well up in his eyes. He felt lost and lonely. Ever since John walked into that classroom he’d been a beacon of light in his dark life, the sun that brightened his dark hours. For the first time since his mother died, he had felt happiness again whenever he was around John. John had made his life worth living again, had made him feel special. Where did things go wrong? 

He really, really wanted to tell John they shouldn’t have Stu as a bass player, but if he did so, John might throw him out of the band and his relationship with John, however minimal it was right now, would come to a complete end, and he couldn’t bear that. So he would just have to suck it up and battle on. He was good at battling through life, after all, he’d been doing it since he was eight years old. He felt a tear running down the side of his face onto his pillow. How he wished he could just stop battling. Would life ever be easy for him?

***

They were a real band now. Singers, guitarists, drummer, bass player. And they started to get more gigs. They were going to the top! John just felt it in his bones. If only Stu would try just a little bit harder to learn how to play the bass. But he didn’t seem very committed to playing. He usually stood on the stage, back halfway turned to the audience, and plucked some strings. Not even in the right key. The annoyed look on Paul’s face when Stu messed up things again, worried John. Paul didn’t say anything about Su’s inadequacy as a bass player, but John could see it in the boy’s eyes: “Get rid of him!” But he couldn’t. He liked Stu, he looked absolutely cool on stage with his dark glasses, and he could go to pubs with him, drinking beer, having fun. Paul was too young for that. 

Paul…....Beautiful Paul…....It was still great being on stage with him, the boy was so full of music, and when they shared a mic, standing close, singing in harmony together, looking in each other’s eyes, John still felt butterflies. And when Paul belted out “Long Tall Sally”, giving it his all, sweat making his hair stick to his face, John felt his cock stir. God, Paul was stunning! 

Sometimes he wished they could go back to the days when they’d spend every single day writing and playing after school. Sitting together, Paul’s notebook in between them, strumming their guitars, creating…… But more and more John had felt the need to touch Paul, caress his cheek, run a thumb along those full lips, run his hands across that gorgeous body, run his hands through that dark, silky hair, kissing his eye-lids…….He couldn’t do any of those things he longed for so much, it would ruin everything between them. He had to put some distance between them before he did something stupid and lose Paul completely. 

So Stu was a good distraction. That’s why he had to stay in the band. But what if Paul decided to leave the band? He was clearly not happy with their bass player. Then he could lose Paul completely as well. He felt a sting in his heart, losing Paul was not an option…….

***

Paul lingered at the stairs of the Liverpool Institute. He had told Mike and George to go ahead, he’d take a later bus because Mr. Durband had asked him to help him out on something. A lie of course, but he just wanted to be alone for a while. 

So now he sat on the stairs, smoking a ciggie (yes John was a bad influence!) and staring at two birds picking up some breadcrumbs. They seemed completely at ease with each other, eating side by side, carefree, like there was nothing else in the world. He wished he could be so carefree, going through life with John by his side, playing their music together, no Stu…....

The birds suddenly flapped their wings and flew away together, taking to the sky, free. Oh how he wished he could be free as a bird. But there was so much weight on his young shoulders. How he longed for the days John would come back to his place to write and play together, those beautiful hands strumming his guitar, feeling him so close. But John was a student now and spent all his free time with Stu, he didn’t want to hang around with a schoolboy like Paul anymore.

Paul felt tears stinging his eyes. The feeling of deep loneliness that had hurt him for so long before he had met John, was back again. He stared at his feet, biting his thumbnail, not really knowing what to do. “Hello Paul, missed the bus, son?” Paul looked up, seeing Mr. Durband standing there. “Eh, yes, I did sir, I just decided to sit here waiting for the next one.” 

Mr. Durband was struck by the sadness in the boy’s eyes. Paul probably was not only his best pupil, but also his favourite, getting high grades, always paying attention, a very nice boy. But he knew Paul had lost his mother, and had the responsibility of looking after his younger brother, and knew that that must be hard sometimes.

“Everything alright, Paul?” he asked as he sat down next to the young man. He suddenly realized that the young boy he had known for several years now, had grown into a really handsome young man. Must have lots of girls flocking around him. He smiled at that thought “Did your girlfriend leave you?”

Paul looked up at his teacher, his big doe eyes full of sadness. “Yeah, sort of” he managed to whisper, Mr. Durband’s remark too close for comfort. “Well, cheer up, son, I’m sure they will be waiting in line for you” Mr. Durband said as he stood up, heading for home “You’d better be heading for the bus stop, before you miss the next one as well.” 

He started to walk away, but hesitated, and turned back facing the lonely looking boy still sitting on the stairs “Paul, if there’s something troubling you, you can always talk to me. I’ll be more than willing to listen to you, without judging, remember that, okay?” Paul thought back of all the times he had thought of confiding in Mr. Durband about the sexual abuse. Maybe he should….….No he couldn’t let anybody know about his feelings for John either. It was a crime after all.

“I’ll be alright, sir. Like you said, there are plenty of other birds out there to catch. See you tomorrow, sir!” He watched Mr. Durband walk away. Yeah plenty of birds, but no other John. The two birds that flew away earlier came back, resuming the picking of breadcrumbs. He didn’t really want birds, did he? He wanted John.

***

John was angry. He had already started to lose interest in the lessons at Art College. He had envisioned a college life full of freedom, doing whatever he wanted to do, but the lessons were boring, restricting and he wasn’t able to let his spirit fly freely. But Stu was so serious about their lessons. As sloppy as he was when it came to playing bass, as committed he was when it came to everything involving art. 

So today he had to study for an exam, about expressionism or something like that, and therefore had no time to spend the afternoon with John, taking about, about….....what were they talking about when they were together anyway? Not about music, that’s for sure. 

Stu wasn’t interested in the newest Little Richard single, or the marvellous harmony on the latest Everly Brothers song, or that amazing riff that he discovered on one of the songs on a Chuck Berry’s album, or how gorgeous Elvis looked when he held a guitar, or how he managed to finally play that new chord he had been practicing..……No he couldn’t talk about things like that to Stu. 

The only one he could talk about things like that was Paul. _His_ Paul. Who was sitting there on the top of the stairs, staring at….....two birds? Looking rather miserable, cigarette forgotten in his hand, resembling a painting John had once seen, but could not remember the name of the painter of. Should have paid more attention in class. 

He hesitated. Should he go to him? But he didn’t have time to think, since his feet decided for him on their own accord. “Hi” he heard himself say as he plopped down next to Paul on the marble steps, “Looking for inspiration for a song about birds then, are you?” his voice causing the birds to fly away.  
He saw Paul following them with sad eyes and then turning to him. “Hi, what you’re doing here?” John’s stomach did a somersault when Paul’s eyes met his. The most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, but right now they were so full of…....of..…..pain? “Can’t a guy have a chat with his best mate? I could leave if you prefer?” He saw Paul’s eyes widen “Am I? Your best mate, that is? I thought Stu had taken up that position.” 

What was that he heard in Paul’s voice? Jealousy? “Stu? What makes you think that?” Paul looked down and watching him through his long eyelashes he murmured “Well you spend all your time with him..…..” and the look he then gave John, made his heart sting. He hated to see Paul so down. Did he cause that? 

“Yeah, well, maybe I do spend time with him, but that doesn’t mean you’re not my best mate anymore. Because you are, you know, my best mate, that is. Can’t talk about music to him, you know. I sometimes think he doesn’t even know who Buddy Holly is, let alone know his songs. Can you imagine that, not knowing the great Buddy Holly?” 

Paul chuckled “Well I’m sure he knows all about painters.” John grinned “Yeah, but I don’t know any songs by painters, do you?” He saw Paul chewing his lower lip in that cute way he always did when he was a bit nervous. “I’ve kind of been working on an arrangement for Buddy’s “Words of Love” for us to sing, but it’s a bit difficult, you know, trying out the harmonies alone….....” Paul’s voice petered out and he blushed a little. So fuckin’ cute! And before he could stop himself, he blurted out: “Well we’ll better start working on those harmonies together then!” The smile that lightened up Paul’s face and made his eyes twinkle with sheer joy, caused John to feel butterflies again.


	12. RECONNECTING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John and Paul seem to find their way back to each other, but Mr. Maxwell messes things up again. But luckily they're still able to reconnect through music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

When Paul entered his tiny bedroom, John in tow, he felt exuberant. He took his guitar, plopped down on his bed, and smiled broadly at John, who sat down on the ground opposite to him, legs crossed, his guitar (picked up quickly at Mendips before going to Forthlin Road) mirroring Paul’s. “Well, this is what I’ve got so far” he said, letting John hear what he had worked out for “Words of Love”.

He noticed how John listened intensely to him singing first his own and then John’s lines, and when he focused his eyes on John, full of anticipation of what he would say, John smiled at him, his eyes warm and beautiful, and Paul felt a blush creeping up his cheeks. Did John like it? 

“Sounds good, Macca, let’s try it together then.” Paul felt light in his head at John’s praise, and when the two of them starting to play the song together, their voices harmonizing in a way only their voices could do, Paul was filled with a feeling of coming home, a feeling of belonging. Being with John made his world bright again, all his dark feelings disappeared and happiness washed over him. “That was really good, Johnny, if we practice a little bit more, maybe we can put it on our set list for next time.”

***

John arrived at Mendips, feeling happier than he had in months. God, how good it had been spending the afternoon with Paul again! After they had run through “Words of Love” a couple of times, looking in each other’s eyes as they sang in perfect harmony, they had talked about everything under the sun, everything of course being music. John couldn’t believe he had denied himself the pleasure of being around Paul for so long. The way the boy talked with his singsong voice, the way his smile brightened up the whole room, the way he smelled (so purely Paul), his endlessly long legs that ran all the way up to that perfect arse of his, the way his elegant hands gestured when he spoke, his eyes…....oh God those eyes! 

He realized that keeping his distance from that alluring boy, hadn’t weakened the fire that burned inside of him. It was still burning in all it’s intensity, maybe even more so than ever before. He really had to restrain himself from touching Paul. He knew he had been staring at the boy’s lips as he talked, longing to feel how those full lips would feel if he kissed them. But he managed to let that overwhelming urge not get the better of him. 

He had thoroughly enjoyed their time together. He had relished their closeness, their connection. And he realized he couldn’t go back to living without Paul in his day-to-day life. Spending time with Paul compared to spending time with Stu was like running through a field of flowers on a warm, sunny summer’s day to sitting in the mud on a cold and rainy winter’s day. 

He knew he couldn’t deny himself the sun any longer. From now on he would spend time with Paul again, no matter how hard he would have to struggle to keep his hands to himself. He started humming “Words of Love”, looking forward of singing those words together on stage with the young man he loved.

***

Of course his dad had to work late on the night of their next performance. “Never mind, son, you just go to your gig, I’ll ask Mr. Maxwell to look after Mike.” No, no, no, why now, why today? He couldn’t let Mike fall into the clutches of that horrible man! He would have to cancel their gig, the gig he was so looking forward to, the gig that would premiere their rendition of “Words of Love”. He felt so helpless right now. How could he tell John that he wouldn’t be able to perform? 

“No need to ask Mr. Maxwell, dad, I don’t mind staying at home. The band can perform without me for once.” His dad tried to convince him to go, but Paul stood his ground. So now he had to tell John. Paul groaned, he knew this news would not go down well with John. But he had no choice, his hands were tied. The man he might not be able to abuse him anymore, but there was no accounting for what Mr. Maxwell would do to his little brother if he was left alone with him. There was no other option: he would have to cancel. He felt like a dead man walking when he picked up the phone and dialled John’s number.

***

John couldn’t believe his ears! “You can’t just cancel, Paul. You’ve got a responsibility to the band, to me for heaven’s sake! We were going to sing “Words of Love” for the first time! We’ve practiced so hard to make the song sound perfect!” And I was really looking forward sharing a mic with you, looking in your gorgeous eyes while singing that song, John thought, but he couldn’t say that of course. “You’d better give me a hell of an explanation, mate!” 

John felt like his whole world was collapsing, he had been so looking forward to this performance. He heard Paul stutter something about having to look after Mike. “Mike’s thirteen for Christ’s sake! He’s hardly a baby anymore, I’m sure he can look after himself for one night!” But no matter what he said, he wasn’t able to convince Paul. 

“Well, if you can’t get your priorities straight, maybe you should reconsider playing in the band!” John slammed down the phone, absolutely fuming. They had such a good thing going, him and Paul, how could he let him down like this? His father and brother would always come first and second with Paul, John just was just a distant third. Would he ever be on the same level with them? Would he ever be Paul’s first?

***

Paul looked at Mike, doing his homework. His little brother. He had been so young when their mother died. Only five. Mike could hardly remember her. Paul had to look after him, he promised his mum he would. Paul remembered his mum well, her eyes, her hands, her hair, her perfume, her voice, her kindness. Tears threatened to fall down his eyes. How he missed her! 

But sometimes he felt resentment towards her. If she hadn’t died, Mr. Maxwell would never had come into his life. He never would have to endure the pain, the fear, the shame. He wouldn’t have to worry about Mike, he would be playing with John tonight. John’s words had been so harsh, but he understood why. He had let the band down, he had let John down and what was his explanation? He had to look after his brother, who was probably perfectly capable of spending the night alone. He closed his eyes and imagined singing with John: “Hold me close and tell me what you feel, tell me love is real....….” 

How he wished he could feel John’s arms around him, holding him close, telling him he loved him. But that would never happen, would it? John didn’t feel the same way about him, the way he felt about John. He didn’t even know if he’d still have a place in the band after tonight. John had been so angry…..…”Words of love you whisper soft and true, darling I love you,,,….” And like so many times before, Paul wondered why life was so difficult.

***

John had drunken way too much, he could hardly stand straight, let alone walk home alone. Stu and George had supported him on his way back home after the show, so he managed to get there in one piece. Their performance had been a disaster: Stu had hardly played at all, just standing there trying to look cool. George, who suddenly had to take over Paul’s harmony, had frozen and could hardly sing a note right. Pete failed (again!) in keeping the band playing in time, and John himself kept forgetting the lyrics due to too much booze in his system. 

They were nothing without Paul, fans asking where their favourite singer was and leaving the venue because they played terribly without him. After the disastrous performance John had downed several scotch and cokes, trying to drink his pain away. How he had missed Paul tonight! Pete had left immediately after the show, so that left George and Stu to hear John’s almost endless complaining about Paul not showing up, Paul letting him down, Paul not having his priorities straight, Paul hurting him..…… George and Stu finally managed to get him home, so now here he was, lying on his bed with his clothes on, with only one thing on his mind: Paul. _His_ Paul. What was he going to do about his Paul?

***

On the bus to the Inny he sat down next to George. “How did the performance go?” Paul asked tentatively. “It was a disaster Paul! Why didn’t you show up? John was so blatantly drunk he could hardly stand, let alone sing and play. It was the most horrible performance we ever gave. If you had been there, you could have prevented John from drinking too much. We certainly couldn’t do it. And what’s more, you’re the one that keeps the band together, were not much good without you. Why the hell didn’t you show up!” 

Paul looked at George with wide eyes; he didn’t think he had ever heard George talk so much! “It can’t have been that bad” he managed to say. “Yes it was, Paul, I don’t think they will ever ask us to play there again. So why didn’t you show up?” Right then the bus reached their destination. Saved by the bell! Paul had no idea what kind of explanation he was going to give George so he quickly left the bus, telling George he had something to ask Ivan before the lessons started. 

He felt so guilty for letting the band down. And not being able to tell them why he had to cancel made him feel even worse. They all thought looking after Mike was a lame excuse. George was really mad at him, something that had never happened before. And John…....He was afraid to face John. Would John throw him out of the band? He had hinted in that direction when Paul had told him he had to cancel. “Get your priorities straight” he had told Paul. But no matter how much Paul wished he could make John his first priority, he knew Mike had to come first. He walked through the corridor to the classroom for his first lesson: English. At least a good start for the day.

***

John didn’t go to Art College. He had a hell of a hangover and his head felt like someone was banging a hammer on his skull. He pulled the covers over his pounding head and groaned. He had a feeling he had made quite a spectacle of himself last night. But it wasn’t his fault was it? It was Paul’s! He didn’t show up, leaving him and the guys to play without him. Should he kick Paul out of the band? If he let them down like that, he didn’t really deserve to be in the band! 

But John knew they needed Paul, hell he needed Paul! So there wasn’t really an option, Paul had to stay. But he had to make it clear to him that John wouldn’t allow this to happen anymore. Next time he _would_ kick him out or the band. And as for now…..…sleep seemed to be the best idea.

He woke up a couple of hours later, feeling much better, and he decided to take the bus to the Inny to confront Paul. Not time like the present after all. As he stood there waiting, watching the schoolboys rushing down the stairs, he remembered his first day at the Inny. The first time he laid eyes on Paul. Thinking back of that moment (how long ago has it been now, almost two years?) he realized it was love at first sight. He had never seen anyone as beautiful as Paul. 

Paul, who was now walking down the stairs with Mike in tow, but suddenly stopped when he spotted John standing there. He said something to his brother, who nodded and ran down the stairs yelling ”Hi John” as he passed by him on his way to the bus. He saw Paul slowly walking towards him, biting his bottom lip, looking nervous, and he took one last pull of his cigarette before throwing the stub on the ground. He nodded towards the bus stop “Don’t have to look after him today then?”

***

Paul was so relieved. John hadn’t kicked him out of the band! Sure he was angry at Paul, and he had warned Paul not to let him down again, but he was still a Quarryman! “Wanna come back to mine then? We could try to write a new song together” he cautiously asked John, looking at his friend a little timidly. “Didn’t bring me guitar, as you might have noticed, Macca” John replied. “Well we could write some lyrics while I’m trying out some chords to go with them. You’re very good at lyrics” Paul hoped praising John’s lyric-writing ability would convince him to come home with him. He knew John loved compliments. “Thanks mate, yeah let’s go and write another Lennon/McCartney original!”

Paul made them a cup of tea and sat down on the piano bench, his fingers touching the keys, playing a soft tune that sounded vaguely familiar to John. Then he turned back to John “Have you got any ideas yet?” John looked back at him a little hesitantly. “Well, I have this couple of lines in my head for some time now, maybe we can use that to built a song around?” Paul looked at him excitedly “Let’s hear it then, Johnny!” Why did John suddenly seem so nervous, he really wasn’t the nervous type usually, was he?

> “In spite of all the danger  
>  In spite of all that may be  
>  I'll do anything for you  
>  Anything you want me to  
>  If you'll be true to me”

***

John had blurted out the lines that had occupied his mind for a few days now. Words about him and Paul. Would Paul understand they were about them? He saw him scribble down something in his notebook and as he repeated the words out loud, John’s heart nearly skipped a beat. Paul played some chords on the piano, humming softly, and slowly a melody seemed to appear out of nowhere, matching John’s words perfectly. John looked at him open-eyed, totally amazed how Paul just took his lyrics and created a song. And then Paul sang the next lines:

> “In spite of all the heartache  
>  That you may cause me  
>  I'll do anything for you  
>  Anything you want me to  
>  If you'll be true to me”

“Yeah, that’s it, write it down!” John, still sitting on Jim McCartney’s chair, jumped up and sat next to Paul at the piano. Paul turned his head to face John with a beaming smile. “But we will have to work out an arrangement for guitars, since we usually don’t carry pianos to our gigs” Paul giggled. He really giggled. John loved the sound of his giggling. His head felt woozy and there were like a million butterflies occupying his stomach.

He leaned in closer to Paul, their shoulders and thighs touching. He smelled Paul’s scent, the coconut shampoo mixed with a wildly erotic musky scent. “And we…....we….....we need a…….a…....middle-eight” he stuttered, his eyes going from those luminous eyes to those luscious lips and back. “Well, let me write down these lyrics first, before we forget them” Paul chuckled “And then let’s work on a middle eight.” 

John saw Paul’s eyelashes flutter and moved a little bit closer, drawn to those lips. He saw Paul’s eyes widen a bit, a question in his eyes. “What about this then for a middle eight” Paul suddenly said, breaking the spell.

> “I'll look after you  
>  Like I've never done before  
>  I'll keep all the others  
>  From knocking at your door”

Their eyes met and for a moment John thought he had died and gone to heaven. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things seem to go alright between John and Paul again. But I'm afraid bad things are on the horizon..........


	13. THE DREAM IS OVER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Things go very well for John and Paul. Until they don't.........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

At their next gig they played “Words of Love” as well as their new song “In Spite of all the Danger.” Paul felt like he was on fire when singing those songs with John. On the day they had written their new song, Paul had felt a strange vibe coming from John. John had looked at him with eyes full of......of......love? No, he must have mistaken the signs. It probably was just wishful thinking on his part.

Anyway, he and John had been like two peas in a pod for weeks and weeks now, and everything just seemed perfect. And when their friendship thrived, Paul felt on top of the world, and all the memories of the hardship in his life seemed to totally disappear. 

Luckily he didn’t have to cancel any more gigs, although every now and then he had to tell John he wouldn’t be able to attend band practice, because his father had to work late, but John didn’t make a fuss about it. They had written a few new songs together, Paul had written them down in his notebook in his neat handwriting (“really, Macca, if your looks don’t make you look like a bird, your handwriting will give you away” John had joked). Paul’s school grades, that had always been extremely good, started to decline a bit, since he spend all his free time writing and playing with John, practicing with the band and performing.

His dad had begun to grumble about it, saying John was a bad influence on his son and he tried to encourage Paul to keep doing his homework and make sure his grades went up again, so he would be able to go to teacher’s college. Paul tried his best to satisfy his dad, he really did, but the pull John had on him was way too strong. He wanted to be in his presence all of the time, he needed John like oxygen, his life just wasn’t complete without him. And although it confused him immensely, deep down he knew he was in love with John.

***

John had the feeling he’d been walking on clouds for weeks. He and Paul had resumed their habit of spending time together again, writing, singing, playing, just being close to each other. John was glad he’d decided to make Paul his number one friend again instead of Stu. They were so much more on the same wavelength. Plus, of course, he was in love with Paul. He was absolutely sure about it. Even though that also made it difficult to be near Paul, he really had to restrain himself not to be too touchy-feely when sitting next to the beautiful boy.

He had started to consider Paul to be his soul mate. They liked the same things, had the same wit, shared their love for music. They often said the same things at exactly the same time, came up with the same chord or same lyrics simultaneously, like it was meant to be. And when Paul laughed, John felt his heart overflow with love. He so wanted to act on his feelings, but he couldn’t, it was illegal, and what’s more, he doubted Paul would return his feelings. 

So he settled on the next best thing available: being Paul’s best friend. He relished every moment he spent with Paul and when they were on stage together it was absolutely magical. With Paul by his side he could conquer the world, he conquer the world! Their band would conquer the world. And although he wanted more, so much more of Paul, he knew he had to be satisfied with what he had.

***

Paul celebrated his 18th birthday with his dad, Mike, lots of aunts, uncles, cousins, school friends and his band mates. John had given him a very special and expensive present: a leather jacket similar to the one John had (Paul had been very jealous about it, but couldn’t afford one himself). He was totally overwhelmed by it and had felt a strong urge to give John an enormous hug, but stopped himself just in time. “Thanks, John,” he said instead, giving his friend the brightest smile ever, “It’s beautiful, I really wanted one!” 

He tried it on and didn’t take it off for the rest of the evening, even though it was way too hot for a warm June day. They ended up in Paul’s bedroom, sitting on the bed next to each other, shoes taken off, their backs resting against the wall, talking about all things under the sun. After a while their conversation fell silent, and they sat companionably side by side for a long time, their shoulders touching, neither of them knowing what to say. 

“John......” “Paul......” They spoke each other’s name at the same time, facing each other, their eyes meeting. Paul stared in the warm almond shaped eyes of the young man, completely absorbed by what he saw there: admiration, happiness, but most of all: love. Did he really see love in John’s eyes? Oh how he wanted that to be true! He decided to be bold: “It’s getting very late. Maybe you’d better stay here tonight and go home in the morning. That is, if you don’t mind sharing the bed.”

***

He stared in Paul’s doe eyes, amazed at all the colours he saw in them. So fuckin’ beautiful! And so full of......love. Love? Was he sure he saw love there? Or was his mind just playing tricks on him? He was so totally absorbed by the look in those mesmerizing eyes, that he almost missed Paul’s question. Stay here tonight, with Paul, in his bed? He wanted to shout out “Yes, yes, yes!” but managed to reply a little more dignified “Good idea, Macca, Mimi’s probably asleep anyway.” 

The words came out relaxed, but his heart was beating frantically. “I didn’t bring any pyjamas though.” Paul giggled. “Just sleep in your boxers and t-shirt. It’ll be warm enough with the two us under the blankets.” John’s stomach was doing a whole series of somersaults as he started to undress himself, watching Paul who was doing the same. “Don’t wear pyjamas, don’t wear pyjamas” John’s mind was saying when he looked at Paul’s long legs, covered in dark, curly hairs. 

It almost seemed Paul had heard his silently spoken words, because after hesitating a little, looking at his pyjama trousers, Paul decided to crawl under the blankets in just his boxers and shirt as well. He held the blankets open a bit, inviting John in. John lay down beside Paul, but the bed was far to mall for the two of them to lie next to each other on their backs, and John almost fell out.

Paul had grabbed on to him just in time. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit, Macca” John chuckled as he sat up. “Yes it will, John, if we just lie on our sides instead of our backs.” Paul turned on his side, facing the wall. John hesitated. Would he turn on his side turning his back to Paul? Or would he turn on his other side, facing Paul’s back? But that would be spooning him, and two blokes didn’t spoon, did they? 

He looked down at Paul, the long back turned towards him, his messy, nearly black hair spread out on the pillow, and decided to take the bold step. He lay down on his side facing Paul’s back. To prevent himself from falling out of the bed again, he shoved closer to the young man, until his chest touched Paul’s back and his legs touched Paul’s. 

He was extremely aware of his cock touching Paul’s arse and felt himself harden at the feeling. Shit, he hoped Paul wouldn’t notice his arousal! He didn’t really know what to do with his arms and awkwardly put his arm around Paul’s waist. Paul snuggled closer to him and a soft snoring made John realize the gorgeous boy he was now spooning, was already asleep. 

John relaxed a bit, his nose resting in Paul’s thick, silky hair, relishing the boy’s musky scent, feeling every inch of his body against his, afraid to move. He couldn’t sleep. How could he sleep? Feeling Paul’s body, Paul’s body, against his own like this, was like a dream come true. He wanted to enjoy every second of it, he couldn’t just sleep through this amazing experience. 

Paul’s body felt very masculine and strong, hairy arms and legs, but at the same time soft and...... feminine? No not feminine, more like......androgynous? His arse firm and round. Perfect. The hand resting on Paul’s waist carefully slid down further around Paul’s body, caressing his taut belly. Paul moved a little, humming contently in his sleep. It took hours before John’s eyes closed and he drifted asleep, closely spooning the boy he fell in love with the day he had met him.

***

All good things must come to an end. Paul should have known it. His entire life had been a disaster, so how could he have thought for one second that everything would go smoothly from now on? He had woken up the morning after his birthday, lying in John’s arms. And he had felt so safe, so happy, so loved. He had stayed silent, not wanting to awake John, relishing the feeling of the young man’s body against his. 

When John finally had woken up, they had smiled shyly at each other, both of them feeling a bit awkward about the situation. They had dressed in silence, sending each other stolen glances, looking a bit flushed. John had left for home, telling Paul goodbye with a somewhat uncomfortable look in his eyes. 

Their next few meetings were a bit hesitant, as if they didn’t know how to act after their night together, although nothing really happened. But after some weeks everything was back to normal. Until that fatal afternoon a few months later. John was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs when school was out. Paul beamed when he saw John, it always made him happy to see him. “Hey, John, couldn’t wait to see me?” John looked at him excitedly “Macca, you’ll never guess!” Paul chuckled “Well. If I’ll never guess, you’d better tell me straight away. Saves us a lot of time!” John looked as excited as a kid on Christmas morning “Ah, Macca, you’re no fun! Well, I’ll tell you then, we’re going to Hamburg!”

***

John couldn’t wait to tell Paul. The Quarrymen were booked for a series of gigs in Hamburg, playing there for four months in a row, seven nights a week, earning £2.50 each a day. John could hardly believe it, earning that amount of money, and going abroad for the first time, spending all of his time with Paul, singing and playing together, writing new songs together, exploring the town together, maybe even exploring each other? They were leaving next week, short notice yeah, but what the hell: they were going to be famous! They were going to leave old Liddypool and conquer the world!

John waited at the stairs of his old school, so excited to tell his best friend this wonderful news. He had no idea where things went wrong or why, but Paul did not react the way John had hoped for.

At first he saw Paul’s face light up, the bright smile reaching his eyes and making them sparkle. “Wow, John, that’s amazing! You, me, the guys, Germany, performing, four months, wow, that’s just......just......Wow!” Paul had been a least as excited as John was, John was sure of it. But then he suddenly saw Paul’s face drop. His smile faltered, the sparkle in his eyes disappeared and the temperature all of a sudden seemed to drop several degrees. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Paul’s next words made John’s heart freeze. “I can’t go to Hamburg with you, John.”

***

They were booked for a four months stay in Hamburg! Wow! Paul could hardly believe what John had just told him. Spending four months with John (and the rest of the guys naturally, but especially John of course) in Hamburg, performing, earning money! Four months away from Liverpool! Four months away from home. _Four months_......shit! 

_Four months!_ How many times would his dad have to work late in _four months?_ How many times would Paul not be there when his dad worked late? How many times would his dad ask Mr. Maxwell to look after Mike because Mike wasn’t sixteen yet? How many times would that man get the chance to abuse his little brother, the way he had abused Paul so many times? He couldn’t let that happen! He couldn’t......”I can’t go to Hamburg with you, John.”

He saw John’s eyes widen, looking at him in disbelief. Then the disbelief was replaced by anger. “What the hell, McCartney?” John only used Paul’s last name if he was really angry, so Paul shivered a bit, biting his bottom lip nervously. “I can’t stay away from home for so long, John, I just can’t.” Paul hated how desperate his voice sounded. “I wish I could, believe me, I’d really, really like to go, but It’s simply not possible!” 

He saw John’s eyes darken, his lips a grim line. “Well you’d better give me a damn good explanation, I won’t accept “I can’t stay away for so long,” you’re eighteen for Christ’s sake, of course you can stay away for four months!” Paul searched his mind for a plausible explanation, but he couldn’t come up with one. There was no way he could tell John about Mr. Maxwell, about what had happened to him, he would die of shame! “Can’t we go next year, like in January, or something? I could go then.” Mike would turn sixteen in January, so his dad would allow him to stay home alone by then. He saw John’s face turn red and then he exploded.

***

Go in January? John couldn’t believe his ears. He felt a rage take over his whole body. “Go in January? Were booked for next week, not in fuckin’ January! You suppose they would be willing to postpone our performances because it’s more convenient for little fuckin’ you? There are possibly at least ten other bands that are more than willing to fill the spot, McCartney! No, we can’t fuckin’ change the date! We’re going next week, and if you don’t like it, that’s just too bad. You either come with us or you can just fuckin’ leave the band!” He saw Paul’s face go very pale, his eyes pleading: “But, John......” John clenched his fists “Shut it, McCartney, you haven’t even given me a bloody explanation yet, so don’t “but John” me!”

John couldn’t remember he’d ever been so angry before. His dream of making it big with the band, together with Paul, just shattered in a thousand pieces. Paul didn’t want to come with him! This was such a great opportunity for them. How could Paul decline so easily, without even the smallest of explanations? He heard Paul stutter: “Y-you don’t r-really mean t-that, do you, J-Johnny? Maybe......maybe you c-can just go w-without me, and then......then......when you c-come back, I c-can play with you g- guys again?”

John saw red. “Who do you think I am, McCartney, Crazy Guggenheim? I can’t believe this, you honestly think you can announce you’re not coming to Hamburg with me and then expect me to let you rejoin the band when we return? You’re completely out of your mind! You should have your head examined, McCartney, because I swear, you’ve gone completely nuts!” 

Paul looked at him like a deer in the headlights. “Please John, listen please......” But John didn’t listen. His fist collided with Paul’s face, causing Paul to stumble and fall backwards. “I never want to see you again, McCartney, you’re dead to me!” He turned around and ran away. Away from Paul. His Paul. Not his Paul anymore. His heart was broken. The dream was over.

***

Paul felt himself drown in a pit of despair. Oh how he wanted to go to Hamburg with John! It was a dream come true. But he had to protect Mike! He just had to! But how could he explain it to John without telling him the truth? How......Before he realized what had happened, he found himself lying on the ground, seeing stars, his face burning. John had hit him! It took him a few moments to come to his senses and hear John’s last words “You’re dead to me!” 

Paul felt tears well up in his eyes and then run down his cheeks. Tears because of the stinging pain where John had hit him. But most of all tears because of the emotional pain John’s words had caused him. Tears because his heart had just been broken into a million pieces. Tears because his dream was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be very dark, I'm afraid.......


	14. THE END......

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John and Paul struggle to get through life without each other. John finds out Hamburg isn't all it's cracked up to be. And Paul makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“Aren’t we supposed to wait for Paul?” George turned to John in astonishment as John had declared loudly that it was time to hit the road. “Hamburg, here we come!” he had shouted at the top of his lungs. “Paul? Paul who?” Pete raised his eyebrows at George, who raised his shoulders with a face that answered “Beats me.” Stu grumbled: “We’re going to miss the ferry if he doesn’t show up soon.”

John turned to face his friends: “We don’t have to worry about missing the ferry, because we are leaving right now.” He plopped down in the van, gesturing the others to follow him inside. “But John, what about Paul?” George tried again. “McCartney is not coming with us, as a matter of fact, I have fired him, so he’s no longer part of this band. Now let’s go.” 

George looked at him in total shock: “When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell us before? My God, John! You can’t just fire Paul. You know how important he is to the band, remember that one gig we did without him? It was a total disaster! Besides, he’s your best friend!” 

If looks could kill, George would have been a dead man by the way John looked at him. “Not anymore Harrison. He’s out of the band and I don’t want to hear his name ever again, is that clear?” Stu, Pete and George exchanged worried glances. “But John, Paul......” George started, only to be stopped by John’s threatening voice: “And anyone who dares to mention his name again, can find another band to play in, am I making myself clear?”

***

Paul had stayed in bed all week, complaining about severe headaches, feeling nauseous, a sore throat, running a fever, just about every disease he could think of, ever since he came home with a seriously bruised cheek which he blamed on falling down the stairs at the Inny: “I’m so clumsy sometimes.” Today was the day. The day the Quarrymen would leave for Hamburg. The day he should be leaving for Hamburg. The day he _couldn’t_ leave for Hamburg, no matter how much he wanted to. 

He groaned as he pulled the covers over his head. Not for the first time in his young life he wondered what he had done wrong to deserve so much heartache. He had lost the only things that had brought some joy into his miserable life for the last couple of years: the band and John. John......”John” he moaned the name of the man he loved so much, the man who never wanted to see him again. He buried his head in his pillow and wept.

***

Hamburg wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. The club they played at was small and rather worn down, they had to play long, exhausting hours, their sleeping arrangements were horrible, the weather was wet and cold, the food was terrible, and of course the band was nothing without Paul. God how he missed Paul. How many times he had looked to his right while standing on the shitty stage, expecting to see that gorgeous young man there, playing and singing his heart out, smiling back at him. Paul wouldn’t have minded playing long hours. Music was his life, music was in his bones, in his veins. He would have loved everything about Hamburg, because Hamburg was about music. 

He didn’t understand, he really didn’t understand. He knew how much the band meant to Paul. He had seen the sheer joy on Paul’s face when he had first told him about Hamburg. But then Paul had suddenly changed his mind. Why? He had asked him why, but Paul had never answered his question.

John lit another cigarette and gulped down the rest of his third (or was it his fourth, or fifth maybe?) beer of the night. It didn’t really matter, did it? No matter how much he drank, the pain of losing Paul wouldn’t go away. But it eased the pain just enough to get by. He was always drunk nowadays. It was the only way he could cope. 

He saw Pete, Stu and George laughing. They didn’t know his pain, they wouldn’t be able to understand what Paul meant to him. How Paul was the only person in the world who understood him, how he was the only one who ever saw him cry, the shared loss of their mothers, the shared love of creating music......How he missed Paul. _His Paul_. He would never stop being his Paul in his mind. It was time to go on stage again for their second show of the night. _Without Paul._

***

Paul had started teacher-training college. Now his dreams of becoming a rock star were shattered, he’d better do something with his life. And Mr. Durband had told him he would be an excellent English teacher. Dad had agreed with him of course. And Paul himself? He liked English, always had, so he supposed becoming an English teacher wouldn’t be a bad choice. But still…….

He decided to leave home and find a place for himself. With Mike being sixteen now, he didn’t have to stay at Forthlin Road to protect him anymore. And what’s more, there were so many horrible memories there, the place where years of sexual abuse had taken place. 

Of course there were beautiful memories too; writing songs with John, laughing with him, talking about everything under the sun, that night they had slept together in Paul’s tiny bed......But those memories were too painful now that John was gone from his life. 

A small apartment in the centre of Liverpool was what he had settled for. Just one bedroom, a bathroom and a small living room with a kitchenette, in an old apartment building. He took on an after college job at the library. Had to earn some wages to pay the rent after all. Working in the library was okay, he liked books, always had, so he supposed it was a good way to earn money. But still......

His days consisted of going to college, work at the library, make himself something to eat (sausage and mash he could prepare reasonably well, but otherwise his go-to meal would be scrambled eggs on toast, with some bacon on the side preferably), and then he would study till late at night. His study was right on track, he was getting high grades, and studying kept him busy, kept him from thinking too much about the things he had lost in his life. His mum, his childhood, his innocence, his music, John......He managed to make it through the days, but still........

He felt desperately lonely, and at times he allowed himself to be swallowed by it, feeling himself slip away in a bottomless pit of despair. The nightmares he was having on a regular base didn’t really help either, leaving him confused and scared as he woke up from them, not daring to go back to sleep again. The lack of sleep had made him tired, so tired. And sometimes he thought it would just be better to end it all.

***

They didn’t even manage to complete their stay in Hamburg. The authorities found out that George wasn’t eighteen yet, and you couldn’t perform under eighteen. So George was send home. Pete had been accused of arson (which was totally ridiculous) and was send home. John’s working permit had been revoked and he too was send home. Alone, since Stu stupid Sutcliffe decided not to go home and stay in Hamburg with his new girlfriend Astrid for the time being. 

John arrived back in Liverpool, alone, disillusioned, no place to stay except at Mendips with his aunt, feeling a complete loser. Gone were the dreams of making it big, the band kind of broken up, Paul out of his life, and Mimi constantly on his back about finding a job. He didn’t want a job! He wanted to play with his band, make a record, go to the top. But most of all he wanted Paul. But he had pushed Paul away from him, hadn’t he? 

He closed his eyes as he took another gulp of his beer. Beer was good. He could drown almost all of his sorrows in beer. Almost all of them. Not all of them. Because when he closed his eyes, he saw Paul’s eyes that last day they had seen each other. Full of shock after he had hit him. But most of all, full of despair. So much despair………

***

He was scared, so scared. He struggled to set himself free, but something (someone?) weighted him down. He couldn’t breathe! He desperately tried to inhale some air, but his mouth and nose seemed to be blocked. He heard someone panting heavily above him. And then there was that unspeakable pain, the feeling of being ripped apart, like everything inside of him was being destroyed, burned. He tried to scream, but a strong hand on his mouth and nose prevented him to express the sheer agony.

He kicked his legs in an attempt to push the man of off him, but it was in vain, he was so much stronger than him. The man kept pumping inside his body, hurting him, as the panting became faster, heavier. The movements inside of his body became quicker, deeper, harder, increasing the pain. His mind begged, screamed, cried for the man to stop, because his mouth couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe, he was suffocating, he was going to die! 

He heard the man groan, a deep, animalistic groan and felt the man’s sperm inside of him. His lungs started to hurt, he saw flashes of light before his eyes and he felt himself slipping away. The evil grin on the face of the man above him, Mr. Maxwell, started to fade and suddenly another face appeared, John’s face, cold, hard, ruthless, “You’re dead to me!” 

In one desperate last effort to break free, Paul kicked his legs around and he felt himself fall, hitting his head. His eyes flew open and he found himself lying on the ground next to his bed in his own apartment. 

Paul was gasping for air, shivering, scared, his body covered in sweat, but feeling cold, so cold. As he tried to catch his breath, the memories of his nightmare still very vivid, he felt tears running down his cheeks. His whole body started shaking with sobs that came uncontrollably. He curled up into a ball, his arms encircling his legs, head buried between his knees, and sat on the cold floor, not daring to go to sleep anymore, afraid that the nightmare would come back. Nut he was so tired, and had to struggle to keep his eyes open. But he couldn’t close them; if he closed them Mr. Maxwell would take over again, he would feel that excruciating pain again. And he would see John’s evil grin telling him he never wanted to see him again. He didn’t know which of those two images hurt him more.

***

They had some gigs in small clubs in Liverpool, but they were far and in between. Pete had to work in his family’s business, since they had some financial problems, and therefore couldn’t always make it. George had taken up some stupid job (John had forgotten what it was) because he didn’t make enough money from their gigs and his family had told him he’d better earn some wages (families were really stupid, weren’t they?) and couldn’t always make it either. Stu had returned from Hamburg eventually, but all he could think of was painting and Astrid, Astrid and painting, and if he did bother to show up, he would just stand at the stage, with his back to the audience, not really playing anything worthwhile.

And as for himself? John spend most of his days drinking, trying to arrange some gigs for the band, thankful he didn’t need the money to get by, since he stayed at Stu’s place again for free. He didn’t write any songs. That was his life with Paul, another universe. And Paul was no longer in his universe. He had probably moved on and forgotten all about him. He was no longer _his Paul._

They had changed the name of the band, since it was really stupid being called the Quarrymen, when the only one who had attended the Quarrybank Grammar School, was John and the bloody school didn’t even exist anymore. But the new name didn’t really work, so they had changed it again and again. Especially after they had fucked up yet again another performance because John was too drunk to remember any of the songs. Clubs wouldn’t book a band again that fucked up so badly. But if they kept changing their name, they wouldn’t know it was them and they would book them again.

John also had started to sleep around. It had started in Hamburg where there were always girls available at their gigs, willing to share his bed with him. And although he did get off, it didn’t really scratched where it itched. Time and again the face of the girl lying beneath him would morph into a too familiar face, black hair, beautiful kaleidoscope eyes, sexy lips.......Paul. God he was so fucked up!

He placed his guitar on his lap, his fingers softly strumming the strings. He missed playing with Paul, sitting across from each other, finding new chords, new harmonies, new lyrics. He smiled when he remembered Paul writing down the lyrics and chords in the notebook John had given him on his 16th birthday. So meticulously and neatly. Another Lennon/McCartney original. The look of pride and joy in his eyes as they had finished another song. He also remembered working out the harmonies on “Words of Love” and how good it felt singing that song on stage, sharing a mic with him. His fingers unconsciously picked out chords and he started singing “Words of love you whisper soft and true......”

He felt tears well up in his eyes. Maybe he should have realized Paul must have had a pretty good reason not to come with him to Hamburg, since the boy loved the band, probably even more than John did. Maybe he shouldn’t have send Paul away. Maybe he shouldn’t have hit Paul. Maybe......John took a last sip of beer, finishing another bottle. He felt the tears run down his cheeks now, singing “Darling I love you......”

***

When Paul finally decided to get up from the floor, his limbs felt cold and stiff. To his surprise it was starting to get dark outside, he had not only spend the rest of the night, but also the entire day at the floor of his bedroom. His stomach growled, but he ignored the feeling of hunger as he started to dress himself. Slowly, as in a haze, he put on his shoes, wondering if he should put on his coat. He decided not to; it was a relatively new coat, and a very nice one at that. It would be a pity if it would go to waste. Besides, it wouldn’t do him any good anyway.

Before he closed the door, he took a look around the tiny apartment, his eyes resting on his guitar for a moment, a melody suddenly occupying his mind: “Hold me close and tell me what you feel, tell me love is real......” Oh how he had always loved singing “Words of Love” with John......He swallowed the tears threatening to spill over his eyelids. No more tears, Paul, no more tears. The heartache was going to stop today.

He sauntered through the familiar streets of Liverpool, realizing it would be the last time he walked those streets. It was cold, a fresh breeze coming in from the Irish Sea. Maybe he should have taken his coat after all......He buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shivering, as he started walking towards the docks, to the river. 

His hands on the railing, he looked down at the water of the Mersey. It looked cold, dark, but somehow inviting. All would be over; no more pain, no more fear, no more fatigue, no more worries, no more nightmares, no more lonely nights......For a moment he thought about his dad and his brother. He knew they cared about him, he knew they loved him, but it wasn’t enough, was it? He knew they would be shocked and sad, but they would pull through. He didn’t leave a note though, so they would never know why. Should he have left a note? 

No, he didn’t want them to know. He was so ashamed about what Mr. Maxwell had done to him, he didn’t want anybody to know. And what good would it do his dad to know his eldest son was queer? He would only be disappointed in him. Which father wanted a queer for a son? No it was better dad and Mike didn’t know. 

And what about John? Would he miss him? Probably not. He had probably moved on and forgotten all about him. He swung one leg over the railing, then the other one, holding on to the railing behind his back. All he had to do now was to let go of the railing and everything would be over. He looked down at the water again. “Will you be waiting for me, mum?” he whispered, feeling his fingers slowly loosen around the railing, slowly letting go of the last thing that attached him to life. “Will you be waiting for me, mum?” He closed his eyes, with a last whisper “John......”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will this be the end?


	15. ANOTHER END......

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> A familiar face appears. And John decides to end something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Water. Dark. Cold. Then colours: brow, green, hazel, black, gold, swirling around like a kaleidoscope. Kaleidoscope eyes. Paul’s eyes. Paul. _His_ Paul. John awoke, startled, sitting up from his mattress on the ground, surrounded by empty beer bottles. From the look of the amount of bottles he knew he was probably drunk, but he didn’t feel drunk. 

On the contrary, every muscle, every nerve, every single brain cell felt on high alert. He was sobered up instantly. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Paul. He’d dreamt about Paul. But it wasn’t a pleasant dream. It was a dark, scary, disturbing dream. It had felt like Paul was in danger, calling out his name…….

John was walking back and forth through the bedroom, like a caged animal. Every fibre of his being told him to go out there, to find Paul. But where should he go? Water, he’d dreamt of water. But that wasn’t much to go on, was it? There was a lot of water in Liverpool, it was a seaport after all. He was probably just imagining things, a scary dream brought up by too much booze. But the dream had been so unnerving, so frighteningly realistic......Maybe he should just cut down on the booze. But no matter how hard he tried, the feeling of impending doom wouldn’t disappear.

***

“What are you doing son?” A hand grabbed his shoulder, firm but gentle. That voice. He recognized that voice. He managed to slowly, oh so slowly tear his eyes away from the inviting water, beckoning him to jump in. He looked at the man standing behind him, saw his eyes widen in shock: “Paul?” Then the barking of a dog made him turn his eyes downwards.

He looked down to see a small Yorkhire Terrier jumping franticly beside the man. Paul loved dogs. He’d always wanted one, but his mum wouldn’t have one, always saying it was unhygienic to have a dog in the house. And after her death, his dad said they couldn’t afford one. He’d always promised himself he would buy a dog one day when he had his own house. It wasn’t practical right now, living in an apartment, but once he had his own house…….

But he would never have a house of his own, since he was going to jump......He would never have a dog......”Paul, what are you doing, my boy? Whatever problems you might have, I’m sure there’s a better way of solving them than like this.” Paul looked up from the barking Yorkie in the concerned eyes of its owner. “Mr. Durband......?”

Mr. Durband tried to help him get back over the railing, holding on to his arm with an iron grip, as if he was afraid Paul would slip away into the cold water beneath. But Paul didn’t want to get back over the railing. He wanted the water to swallow him, he wanted to end it all, to go to his mum, forget about Mr. Maxwell, forget about John......He struggled, trying to set himself free from Mr. Durband’s grip, but he was so tired, so tired......he couldn’t fight anymore, so he gave up his struggles, looking at his old teacher with wide eyes full of despair. ”There is no other way” he whispered, as he let the man help him back on solid ground. 

Mr. Durband took off his own coat and placed it on the shivering young man, putting a warm arm around Paul’s shoulders. “Come on, son, l’m going to take you home. You’re freezing, how long have you been out here without a coat? I’m going to make you a nice, hot cup of tea with lots of sugar. I’m sure Eddie here,” he pointed at the small dog, “I think Eddie wants to go home as well. Not a great fan of cold evenings, our Eddie.” Mr. Durband didn’t stop talking all the way to his house, keeping his arm firmly around Paul’s shoulders, because the young man looked completely forlorn. 

When they stopped in front of a nice semi-detached house with a bright blue front door, Paul looked at Mr. Durband in wonderment. ”Where are we?” he whispered. “This is not my apartment.” “It’s my place, Paul, I think it’s better you’ll stay here tonight then letting you go home alone. He opened the door and let Paul enter, closing the door behind them. “I live her with Eddie and my......my......eh, my friend Steve.” He softly shoved Paul in the direction of the living room where a cosy fire in the fireplace warmed up the room. A man sitting on the couch, looked up at them, his eyes wondering to Mr. Durband’s, his eyes a question mark. 

“Steve, let me introduce you to Paul. I bumped in to him at the docks as I was walking Eddie. He used to be in my class for a couple of years. Very bright young man. Went to teacher-training college to become an English teacher, didn’t you Paul? He forgot his coat, so he’s a bit cold. Could you put the kettle on to make him a cup of tea? Have a seat Paul.” 

Paul did as he was told, and sat down on the couch, eyes staring into nothing. Mr. Durband sat down beside him. “What was that all about, Paul?” he asked, his soft voice full of concern. Paul looked at him. He was very confused “Mr. Durband? Where did you come from?” He was sure he had been at the docks just a minute ago, ready to end his miserable life. And now he suddenly was in a living room he didn’t recognize with his old school teacher? He had no recollection of coming here. Where was “here” anyway? “Where am I?” he whispered, his voice small and scared. Mr. Durband looked at him with compassion: “You’re safe here Paul, you’re safe here.”

***

They were booked to play a series of shows at the Cavern Club. John had sobered up a bit after his horrible dream a few weeks ago. The dream had scared him, it had seemed so real. That was something he didn’t want to experience anymore. So he had cut down on the booze, which also benefitted his performance, although the band still hadn’t made much progress since their Hamburg days. And the scary dream still haunted him. He kept seeing Paul’s eyes, so scared, so desperate......Why couldn’t he put Paul out of his head? 

He looked down at the piece of paper he was using to write down the set list for their next performance. What had he written there? “In spite of all the danger” the song he and Paul had written together. He remembered the day they had written that. He had been so happy that day. He couldn’t play that song without Paul. It was _their_ song. Just like “Words of love” was _their_ song. He would never be able to sing that one without Paul. 

He missed having Paul on stage. He had always been so full of joy, his enthusiasm had been so contagious, it just made every performance so much fun. He and Paul encouraged each other to give their very best on stage. Their playing had improved, they had perfected their harmony singing, trying to outdo each other with their screams (Paul won of course, with his outrageous Little Richard screams), joking around on stage to entertain the audience (John won of course, because he had the most sarcastic wit). There was so much chemistry between them, it had become the spill around which the band had revolved. It had set them apart from other bands. Without Paul they were just another band, and not even a very good one. 

He had hoped George could fill Paul’s spot in the band. But even though George was an exceptionally good guitarist, his vocal abilities were limited. He didn’t have Paul’s amazing vocal range, his ability to sing a ballad with an angel-like voice, and then belt out a rocker like the devil. Nor did George’s voice harmonize as well with John’s as Paul’s had. 

Pete never had been a very good drummer, but John had hoped he would improve his playing. Somehow there was no improvement what’s so ever. It annoyed him enormously. And Stu......John sighed deeply. The man had absolutely no musical talent at all. But he owned a bass guitar and could play two chords. He didn’t even try to learn more. The band was going nowhere. And for the umpteenth time John wondered whatever possessed him to kick Paul out of the band.

***

They had given him a cup of tea, steaming hot, very sweet. It made him feel a bit better. Mr. Durband had asked him if he’d eaten anything today. His stomach had started growling as an answer, which had made them all chuckle, and Steve, Mr. Durband’s friend, had gone to the kitchen, coming back with some toast and scrambled eggs. He had eaten them gratefully, not hearing the two men whispering to each other. 

Mr. Durband had given him pyjamas and he was shown to the guest room. He had argued he was perfectly capable of going home, but they had insisted on him staying there, and Paul was too tired to argue any further. He had slipped under the warm blankets and fallen asleep remarkably quickly.

His sleep, however, was once again interrupted by the same nightmare. His screaming had awakened his hosts, who came rushing into his room, calming him down, fussing over him. Steve had brought him a mug of warm milk, which Paul had drunk eagerly. Mr. Durband (“You can call me Alan. Or “Dusty” if you like, since that is what you all called me behind my back at school”) tried to find out what Paul’s nightmare was about, but Paul was reluctant to tell him. 

They all went back to bed and Paul fell into a deep sleep, not waking up till late next morning. He crawled out of bed, confused about his whereabouts. He needed a pee and walked out of his room in search of a bathroom. His movements seemed to have alerted the house’s inhabitants, as he heard a voice calling from downstairs: “Paul, are you awake?” Mr. Durband. Last night’s events suddenly came rushing back to him. He sat down on the edge of the bathtub, head in hands, groaning. He had really fucked up yesterday.

***

The body under his hands had a beautiful ivory colour, a taut belly above thick, black pubic hair. There was a thin line of hair travelling up to a firm chest, broad shoulders. A deliciously long neck leading to the most beautiful face in the world. He cupped the adorable cheeks, let his thumb wander over the full lips, then over those perfect eyebrows. The gorgeous doe-eyes with their amazing colour and those long eye-lashes, meeting his own, were full of passion. “Johnny” a husky voice whispered, “Johnny.” John felt his neither regions stir, one of his hands wandering down, to the long, slender legs, then travelling up again. His lover moaned (or did he moan himself?). 

“Come on Lennon!” That didn’t sound right. That was not the melodic, sexy voice of his lover. John’s eyes flew open. Stu. Damned! “That must have been some sexy bird you were dreaming about, Lennon, the way you moaned! Maybe you should take it to the bathroom? I don’t particularly enjoy your wet dreams in my bedroom. Is she someone I know?” John felt he was rock hard. A bit embarrassing that. “Not a bird you’ve ever met, Stu” he said, sighing “but you’re right about the sexy part.” 

After that night’s performance, John made a decision. They were standing at the bar, enjoying their beers. “Guys, I’ve got an announcement to make“ he said, and the tone in his voice made them all grow silent an turn to him. “I don’t feel like the band has made any progression in the last couple of months. We’re just going through the motions, just to earn a few bucks. There has been no real pleasure, no joy in our performances and things aren’t improving. I wanted to take this band to the top, but the way things are going, we seem to be going into a downward spiral instead. So I’ve decided that after our contract at the Cavern ends in a couple of week’s time, I’ll disband the band.”

***

“There are towels in the bathroom’s closet if you want to take a shower, and there’s also a new toothbrush you can use.” Mr. Durband called at him through the closed door. Paul answered, his voice sounding a bit wobbly: “Eh, yeah, thanks” as he started to take his pyjamas off. Maybe a nice hot shower was exactly what he needed. The hot water running down his back made him relax a bit. After brushing his teeth, he made his way back to the bedroom. 

He bumped into a man he vaguely remembered from last night. “Hello, Paul” the man said (Steve was his name, wasn’t it?), his eyes wandering down Paul’s body and quickly up to his eyes again. Paul blushed, realizing he wasn’t wearing anything except for a towel around his waist. ”I thought you might want some clean clothes to wear, so I’ve put some of mine on your bed. We’re about the same height, I guess. Trousers might be a bit too wide for you, seeing how slim you are, but there’s a belt that can solve that problem. And if you’re ready, there’s breakfast waiting for you downstairs.” The man smiled at him and Paul nodded silently.

The smell of a full English breakfast greeted Paul as he came downstairs. Mr. Durband was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper. “Good- good morning, sir” Paul greeted shyly. “Good morning, son, take a seat, Steve’s almost done in the kitchen” his old teacher smiled at him. Paul sat down hesitantly, not knowing what to say. One of his fingers slowly found its way to his mouth, where he started chewing it, his eyes averted to the table in front of him. “How are you feeling this morning, Paul?” Paul startled at the question, looking up at Mr. Durband. 

How _was_ he feeling? He felt confused, and......and......embarrassed, and......and......a failure. Yes a failure. He didn’t manage to succeed what he’d set out to do, did he? He didn’t manage to put an end to the pain, the loneliness, the sadness, to everything. “I’m good, I’m good” he whispered, but by the look in his eyes Mr. Durband wasn’t convinced, and he clearly wanted to talk about it with Paul, but Steve walked in with his breakfast. Paul dug in to the delicious smelling food in front of him and pretended not to see the looks the two older men exchanged.

***

George couldn’t believe his ears. “Disband the band? What on earth has gotten into you?’’ he asked angrily. “Like I said, I want to make it big, and that’s just not going to happen without P......” John stopped himself just in time, but Stu saw right through him. “Paul, you were going to say “Without Paul”, weren’t you? Well, you’ve kicked him out yourself, so don’t blame us if things don’t work out the way you planned it!” John threw him a nasty look “Don’t pretend you’re disappointed, Stuart, you were never committed to the band anyway. You’re a lousy bass player and you know it. You’re not even trying to improve your skills!” 

“Come off it, John, you can’t really mean that” George interrupted “We’ve got gigs booked for weeks to come, and we have a steady audience coming to see us and we get paid. So what’s your problem?” John turned his nasty look at George: “My problem, _George,_ is that none of you have the talent or ambition to make this band a _great_ band. And I want a great band. No scratch that: I want a _fuckin’ great_ band! The best band ever! And you guys just don’t have what it takes!” 

John walked out of the Cavern. There, he had said it. In a couple of weeks it would be over, the band would cease to exist. If only he hadn’t kicked Paul out. Together they would have been able to make their band the best in the whole fuckin’ world! A feeling of immense sadness overwhelmed him. The band he had started so many years ago, had come to a pathetic ending. His dreams were shattered.

What was he going to do now? The band had been his entire life the last couple of years, it had kept him going through life, it was all he knew. Would he go on making music on his own? He didn’t even manage to write songs on his own! And he would be freaking out standing on a stage alone! So did this mean the end of his musical career? Without his music, what would he do? Who was he, if he wasn’t a musician anymore? 

He passed a pub, maybe he should go in for a beer or two, or three, or......or just as many as it would take to ease the pain? Maybe if he drank enough, he would pass out and never wake up again? That seemed like a good idea. He opened the door, walked up to the bar and ordered his first beer. Followed by many others to numb the pain of the end of life as he knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is John really breaking up the band? And how will Paul cope after his suicide attempt? You'll find out in the next chapter!


	16. A CONFESSION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> In this chapter Paul confesses something to Dusty and Steve. And John gets ready to play one of his last gigs with his band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“Can you tell me about it, Paul?” He shook his head at Mr. Durband’s question. He didn’t want to talk about it. He was so ashamed of what he had done! He just wanted to go home. Right now as a matter of fact. He stood up abruptly “I’m going home now, thanks for everything, I won’t bother you any longer.” A firm hand on his shoulder pressed him down on his chair. “You are going nowhere, young man” Steve said sternly. “Paul, my dear boy, you shouldn’t be alone right now. Do you want me to call your dad?” Mr. Durband asked in a soft, compassionate voice. 

Paul startled. “No, sir, please don’t call my dad! I don’t want him to worry, please don’t tell him, sir!” He turned to his old teacher in despair. “Then talk to me, Paul. You’ve tried to take you own life yesterday. Why would a young man, so smart, so gifted, so talented, so handsome like you, do such a desperate thing? You’ve got so much going for you! Tell me what drove you to do that, so I can help you. Steve and I both want to help you, Paul! And stop calling me “sir”, Alan or Dusty will do.”

Should he tell him? He often considered confiding in Dusty when he was still at school. But he couldn’t tell him about Mr. Maxwell. The shame about what had been done to him for years, was too deep. He didn’t want anybody to know about it, not ever. But he knew Dusty and Steve wanted an explanation, so he decided to give them something to clarify his suicide attempt. “I think I’m queer.”

***

He had no idea how he made it home last night, but he found himself lying on his mattress, his head pounding like someone was using his skull as a drum. He tried to open his eyes, but the bright light hurt so much, he closed them again quickly. He didn’t drink enough then, he was still alive. He groaned and tried to turn on his side, but that only hurt his head even more, so he stayed on his back, trying to recall yesterday’s events. What had happened? Oh yeah, the band. He had ended the band. Fuck. His life was over, wasn’t it? No band, no Paul, no life......Paul.......

He wondered what Paul was doing. The pretty boy was probably going to college, dating a fine girl, living a perfect life, not a worry in the world, certainly not spending a single second of his life thinking about John. While he was lying here, lost, lonely, soon without a job and a king-hell of a headache.

He woke up again a few hours later, feeling much better, to the sound of voices. Stu and......George. And Pete. “He can’t just end the band like this, I need the wages!” he heard Pete say. “I don’t understand it at all, he loves playing! And I love playing! I’ve been in the band for ages. I don’t agree with him about us not improving. We’ve been doing pretty well lately, with all these Cavern gigs. How can he give up on us so easily?” George sounded heated.

“He’s so fuckin’ angry all of the time” Stu said “He’s been like that ever since Hamburg. But if he wants to dissolve the band, there’s really nothing we can do, it is _his_ band after all.” 

John listened to his band mates talking, Yes, it was his band, but being in a band without Paul, simply was no fun, living without Paul was no fun. But Paul was gone, he had abandoned him, just like his father, his mother, uncle George......Everybody was always abandoning him. Nobody cared about him, loved him, wanted him......Not even Paul. He sighed. _Paul._ Paul had awoken something in him. Something that had confused him at first, but that he was very sure of now. He was queer. And that complicated his life even more.

***

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, but in reality it only lasted about 20 seconds, before Dusty grabbed his hand. “Oh my poor boy. I know how difficult it is to realize you’re homosexual. Did you talk to anybody about it?” Paul shook his head, looking at his hand being held by Dusty. “How can I talk about it? It’s a crime, it’s a sin! I shouldn’t feel like that, I shouldn’t _be_ like that!” 

Steve sat down next to him putting his hand on Paul’s shoulder. “It’s not a sin, Paul, and it’s only a crime because the lawmakers don’t understand you can’t change who you are. You can’t change how you feel. They don’t understand it isn’t a _choice_ you make, it’s how you are _born!_ How can love possibly be a crime?” 

Paul looked at him with sad eyes “But it _is_ a crime, Steve, and if people find out, they can send me to jail. I don’t wanna go to jail!” Dusty squeezed Paul’s hand. “They can’t send you to jail unless you are caught in the act with another man, Paul. _Have_ you been sexually active with another man?” Paul shook his head again. “No, I haven’t. Not really. Only in my mind. There’s this guy......there’s this guy I met at the Inny......but he, he’s not......I mean, he doesn’t love......he’s not queer......we were friends but......he doesn’t even want to see me again.” 

Paul’s last words ended in a sob. “But you are in love with him? Sexually attracted to him?” Dusty had now taken Paul’s hand in both of his. “Yes” Paul whispered, sobs making it difficult to speak “But I’m sure John......John just doesn’t feel......that way......about me.” Steve had started to run smoothing circles on Paul’s back. “John? Are you talking perhaps about John......Lennon?” Paul looked up at Dusty’s face. “How do you know?” he asked his old teacher surprised.

***

They just had a few more gigs to go. George was very angry with him about his decision to dissolve the band. Pete wasn’t too happy either. And Stu? John thought Stu didn’t really care. For him it might just be an easy way out of something he never really enjoyed anyway. As he started singing “Be-bop-a-lula” he looked to his right. Paul used to stand there, playing his heart out, laughing, sweating (how John loved the sweat on the boy’s face), either screaming his lungs out or singing like an angel. 

And to see the sheer joy on his face as their eyes met. With the memories of sharing a stage with Paul running through his brain, he messed up his singing again, as he completely forgot the words to the song he had sung countless times before, resulting in an angry look from George. 

When Stu did his song “Love me tender”, John was reminded of another time and place, when Paul had sung that song at his mother’s house on Julia’s own request. She had told John to hold on to that young man because he had such a lovely voice. Stu’s voice wasn’t so lovely. And now Julia was gone and he hadn’t held on to Paul either. Once again he could kick himself in the head. Why didn’t he try to postpone the Hamburg gigs? Or at least take Paul back after their Hamburg stay? 

Somebody in the audience called out a request for “Long Tall Sally” but that had been Paul’s song to sing and John knew he would not be capable to do the song justice, since he hadn’t the vocal range it needed. “Twist and Shout” went down reasonably well though, but with only George’s voice doing the backing vocals, it sounded a bit dull. And when one of the girls asked for “Words of love” John felt tears well up. He could never sing that song without Paul. George’s voice just didn’t harmonize as well with his as Paul’s did. Besides, it kind of was _their_ song, his and Paul’s, wasn’t it? 

Everything that evening made him face the facts: the band needed Paul. And since Paul wasn’t coming back, his decision to dissolve the band was the only right one. And what he was going to do next? He’d cross that bridge when he’d come to it. Just a few more shows to go......

***

“I remember seeing you together at lunchtime, thinking what an odd combination you made. You, law-abiding, polite, hard working and John, the rebellious Teddy Boy”, Dusty answered. “I saw you leave together after school, and I saw the way you looked at each other. I didn’t realize it then, but it all makes sense to me now. Paul, my dear boy, I’m pretty sure John did feel the same way about you as you did about him.” 

Paul looked at Dusty (it felt weird using that old school nickname to address his old teacher, but using his first name Alan, felt even weirder). “How can you be so sure of that?” Dusty chuckled: “Call it intuition, when you’re homosexual yourself, you kind of sense that, when you see it.” Paul’s eyes widened a bit and he looked from Dusty to Steve and back. “Oh” was all he could say.

“There’s no need to feel guilt or shame, you know” Steve told him softly, “It’s the way you were born, you can’t change it. Just try to accept who you are. It won’t be easy at first, and you can’t just go around telling everybody when you’re in love, not even to the persons closest to you, because they might reject you because of it. Dusty and I know all about it, believe me. But don’t put yourself down, you’re entitled to be who you are. So no more suicide attempts, okay, you deserve to live.”

Paul looked at the two men again. “So......eh......how long have you two been together then?” he asked, blushing a bit. “For years, Paul, for years” Dusty answered. “Does your family know?” Steve sighed “No they don’t. They wouldn’t understand, I’m afraid. We’ve just told them we’re “roommates” and we never visit our respective families together.” 

Paul frowned. “That must be hard......” Dusty looked at him with sadness in his eyes. “Yes it is, it’s very hard, but there’s nothing to be done about it. Steve and I always have to pretend we’re just friends to the outside world. But when we close the front door, we can be who we are, we can love each other, be together and that’s what we cherish. Anyway, your father might not be so prejudiced as our parents are. He’s from a different generation after all.”

***

“John, I wish you would take better care of yourself. You’re all skin and bones. People might think you’ve got a serious disease! You don’t have a serious disease, do you? Because how would I explain that to everybody? And the clothes you’re wearing! What will the neighbours say if they see you like that! And stop smoking inside the house, you know how the smell of cigarette smoke goes into the curtains!” 

“And why don’t you come by more often? I don’t know how to explain to the members of the church why you hardly ever come to visit me! And I still don’t understand why you quit Art College in favour of that horrible band you play in. I talked to Mrs. Jones from number 247 the other day and she told me there’s no money to be made by playing in a band. I totally agree with her. The guitar's all right John, but you'll never make a living out of it.”

John already regretted coming to visit his aunt. Mimi just went on and on about what a failure he was, and how much that reflected on her. She hadn’t seen him for a couple of months, but she never even asked him how he was doing. But she _was_ his aunt, and he didn’t really have that many family members now, did he? “I’m doing fine, Mimi, thanks for asking. And you don’t have to worry about me being in a band anymore, since the band has run its course. We have a few more gigs to play and then we’ll all go our own way.” 

Mimi frowned. “And what are you going to do then, John? You’ll better start looking for a job, because I’m certainly not going to pay for your expenses. By the way, whatever happened to that little friend of yours, Paul wasn’t it? He may have been an Irish RC and he didn’t live in the best part of town, but he was very polite and well-spoken. He had a good influence on you.” 

John chuckled. Mimi always went on about him hooking up with boys way beneath their social standing, with the wrong religion and from the wrong side of town. She had really looked down on Paul, but now Paul suddenly was a good influence on him? You just had to love that woman!

***

Dusty and Steve had finally let Paul go home after two weeks, but only after giving him a serious lecture. “If you ever feel down, or you don’t know how to cope with things, don’t hesitate to come over to our place. You can always talk to us, about anything. Suicide is not the way to solve your problems, son. And we’ll check in on you at least once a week to see if you’re doing alright.” 

Paul was thankful for everything they had done for him. And talking about his hopes and fears, his confusion about his sexuality and the pain he still felt about losing John, _had_ indeed helped him. 

He also had a few good meals as well, a nice change from his usual sausage and mash or scrambled eggs. Maybe he should consider learning to cook? But he was glad to be going home, to his own place, to pick up his life again. He missed his guitar and his records (there were no rock n’ roll records in Dusty and Steve’s house and they only listened to classical music on the radio. They did however own a tv-set, that at least was nice). 

They had kept on insisting he should tell his dad about his suicide attempt, but he had managed to convince them that he was okay and it would only make his dad unnecessarily worried about him, since he wasn’t going to do it again. He had also made Dusty promise not to say anything to Mike, who was still in his class at the Inny of course. He had told Steve he would wash his clothes and return them to him when they came around, since he was still wearing Steve’s clothes. He promised them he would at least think about telling his dad about his homosexuality and they had offered him their help when he decided to tell him and needed support. And of course he had made a vow not to tell anybody about Dusty and Steve’s relationship. They had both hugged him tightly and told him how much they cared for him. It had made him a bit emotional.

***

After a few days things had pretty much gone back to normal. He had picked up his studies without much of a problem, and had quickly caught up at the backlog. At the library they were glad to have him back after his illness (Dusty had called them to report him sick) because they were short-staffed and because his co-workers actually liked him. Dusty and Steve had come by to see how he was doing (he was doing fine) and they had brought little Eddie, who seemed happy to see him and kept licking his hand. Maybe he should take dog even though he was living in an apartment. He really liked dogs.

And one night Paul decided to follow up on Dusty’s advice to go out some more, to try to have some fun. He was a young man after all, he shouldn’t be locked up inside day after day. “You never know who you’re going to meet” Dusty had said, giving him an encouraging smile and a playful wink. And Steve had added ”The love of your life might be out there waiting for you, Paul, and you’re never going to meet him if you stay inside.” 

He put on some tight blue jeans, a nice button down shirt and his jacket and decided to just follow his feet. They brought him to the Cavern Club. He hadn’t been there for a long time, but it seemed a good place as any for a night out. He was up for some good music. 

He looked at the names of the artists playing there tonight. He didn’t know any of them but his eye was caught by the peculiar name of one of the bands. The Beatles. He liked the word play. He chuckled. It was something John could have invented. He sighed. Don’t think about John. Just go in and enjoy some hopefully good music and a few beers. Go see The Beatles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will happen when Paul sees The Beatles at the Cavern? You will read all about it in the next chapter!


	17. THEIR PATHS CROSS AGAIN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> So Paul finds out The Beatles are actually The Quarrymen. How will he react when he sees John on stage again? And will John even see Paul in the audience without his glasses on? Time to find out in this chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John was tuning his guitar. Somehow he never managed to do it as well as Paul did. He remembered how Paul would often grumble about him not being in tune. Paul and his perfect ear. After his visit to his aunt, he had started to think about how he would earn money if he didn’t perform anymore. After all, one had to earn money to stay alive. He had considered applying for a job at NEMS, the town’s best known record store. At least he would be working in the music business, sort of. But working from 9 to 5 just didn’t appeal to him at all. 

He thought it would be better to do some free lance work, maybe he could work as a journalist giving musical reviews for the “Mersey Beat” magazine? He knew the magazine’s publisher Bill Harry after all from Art College. John decided to contact Bill next week. 

“John, we’re on in five minutes” George walked into the small dressing room behind the stage, his guitar in hand, “It’s a full house tonight.” John nodded at the younger man, and suddenly his mind was filled with fond memories. How Paul had gone on and on about what a good addition George would be for their band and how he finally succeeded to get John to hire him, even though John had thought the skinny lad was much too young. How the two boys would climb over the wall between the Inny and the Art College to share lunch with him. How much fun the three of them always had when playing together, even when they were without a drummer or bass player. 

But he also remembered how shocked George had been when he had told him that he’d kicked Paul out of the band. After all, the two boys had been friends long before John had met them. “John, we’re on!” John stood up from the bench he’d been sitting on, straightened his back and took to the stage, for the second-last show of The Beatles.

***

Paul had ordered a beer and had found a seat at a table in one of the niches of the Cavern. There were two girls sitting at the table as well, who were constantly giggling and throwing him glances. He tried to ignore them. His back was turned to the stage, so he didn’t see the next band take to the small stage in the dark, damp club. “Hi, all you Cavern dwellers; welcome to the best of cellars! And now, here they are, The Beatles!” Bob Wooler introduced the next band, that started to play “Be-bop-a-lula” and Paul froze. 

He knew that voice, he would recognize it anywhere! He slowly turned his head to face the stage. _John._ The Beatles. The Beatles were The Quarrymen. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed George, Stu and Pete on stage as well, but his eyes were fixed on the man who had stolen his heart that very day he had walked into his Maths class. _John._

Paul’s hear skipped a beat. He felt all the blood disappear from his face and for a moment he was afraid he would faint. John looked great, with his auburn quiff, that gorgeous smile, his aquiline nose. And his voice! Oh how he loved that voice! He hadn’t heard it for so long. Part of him wanted to stay and listen to him singing, just looking at him, but another part of him wanted to run away, run from the feelings that were rushing through his body, run from the man who had told him many months ago that he never wanted to see him again. What if John saw him sitting here? Fuck, if he had known who The Beatles were, he would never have entered The Cavern tonight! But what could he do now? If he stood up to leave, it might draw John’s attention, and he really, really didn’t want John to notice him.

So he’d better just stay put, turn his back to the stage again, keep his head down and hope John wouldn’t recognize him. Just before he decided to turn around, he made a fatal mistake: he looked up to John’s face once more, and he saw John’s eyes widen when their eyes met. He had recognized him.

***

John had decided to give everything he had tonight. After all it was going to be one of the last times he’d be on stage. So when he started singing “Be-bup-a-lula” he felt the adrenaline rush through his body. His eyes wandered around the club, taking in the audience (just a blur really, since he was as blind as a bat without his glasses) and was about to turn his head to George, who’s turn it was to play the solo, when his eyes met with a pair of all too familiar kaleidoscope eyes. He might be as blind as a bat, but he would recognize them anywhere: _Paul’s eyes._ He looked at Paul in astonishment, he hadn’t seen him for so long, but the butterflies were there instantly. God, he looked stunning!

George’s solo had finished, and it was John’s turn to sing again, but he completely missed his cue. His eyes had locked with Paul’s and it seemed like they were magnetized, they simply couldn’t let go of each other’s eyes. John tried to pick up the song and managed to finish it, not for a second letting his stare waver. 

When Pete counted in their next song, John suddenly had no idea which song they were about to play, and looked around him, totally bewildered, until he recognized “Roll over Beethoven.” Thank God, George had to sing that one, because John wasn’t sure he would be able to sing anything right now. All he really wanted to do, was to jump of the stage, run over to Paul, pull him in his arms and kiss the living daylights out of him. 

But that wouldn’t be possible, would it? Because: **A.** it would be very unprofessional to jump of the stage while you’re in the middle of a show, let alone in the middle of a song; **B.** Kissing the living daylights out of a man would be seen as highly inappropriate and may even end them up in jail; and **C.** Paul would more than likely slap him across the face if he kissed him and tell him where to put it. But still......It was a nice idea, he thought, while staring at Paul pensively. And Paul stared back, eyes wide and......beautiful......and confused and......beautiful......and questioning and......beautiful, definitely beautiful. 

Then Paul turned his eyes away from John’s, turning his back to the stage and to John it felt like the sun had just disappeared behind a cloud. Time for the next song. John’s intention to make this a great performance was forgotten. He just went through the motions, trying to get their set-list finished as quickly as possible. So he could go to Paul. If Paul didn’t leave before they were finished. _Please stay, Paul, please stay!_ He tried to send the message to Paul for the rest of the show, hoping Paul would receive it. Needless to say it was one of his worst performances ever.

***

Paul was so confused. There were so many things rushing through his mind. Joy, because he’d seen John again after such a long time and he looked so good. Anger, because John had just thrown him away like a piece of garbage. Sadness, because he knew they’d never be together. Hope, because, well, you never knew what could happen. Longing, an overwhelming longing to be with John. Pain, because of the hurtful things John had said to him. Love, so much love. Desperation, knowing he could never act upon that love. And fear, because of the things John might say or do when he saw him.

One of the girls at the table tried to get a conversation going with him, but he hardly listened to her. He couldn’t listen to her. His mind was filled with one thing, and one thing only: _John._ The band played terribly. John forgot his words and sang out of tune. George’s solo’s were not really convincing nor was his harmonizing. Pete still couldn’t keep time and Stu......well he was still Stu. They hadn’t exactly made much progress over the last eleven months. 

The band finished off with a lukewarm version of “Twist and Shout.” Paul quickly finished his beer, stood up and rushed up the stairs, anxious to leave the dark underground club, anxious to get away from John.“Paul, wait!”

***

John jumped of the stage as soon as they had finished their last song, leaving his guitar behind. He saw Paul stand up, rushing to the stairs that went up to the entrance of The Cavern, up to the street. There were people in the way, so John found it difficult to reach Paul in time. Afraid he might lose Paul in the crowd, desperate to get to him, he tried to stop Paul from leaving by calling out to him: “Paul, wait!” 

He saw Paul hesitate and slowing down for a second, but then he just proceeded to climb the stairs even faster than before. “Paul, wait!” Some more people coming down the stairs to enter the club’s cellar blocked his way. He pushed them aside, as he tried to catch up with Paul, but Paul had already reached the open door. Luckily John could just see Paul turn left at Mathew Street, so when he reached the street, he started to run after Paul. “Paul, wait! Paul, please!” he pleaded.

He saw Paul slow down, but he didn’t stop walking. John managed to catch up with him, his hand grabbing the young man’s arm. “Paul, stop please!” Paul finally stopped walking. He looked at John’s hand at his arm and then slowly turned to John. “What do you want John?” John was struck by the sound of grief in Paul’s voice and when his eyes met Paul’s, the sadness he saw in those eyes that used to sparkle with joy, made his heart ache. Paul was sad. He didn’t want Paul to be sad. 

“I just want to talk with you, Paul, I haven’t seen you for so long. I saw you sitting there and I thought......I mean, I wanted......you know, I......I......well, you......you.......eh......you look good.” John hated the way he was stumbling, out of breath, sounding so insecure, not really knowing what to say. Here he was standing in front of the man he had missed so much and he was acting like a fool!

“Paul, can we please talk? I’d like to know how you are, what you’ve been up to, you know, just talk? Maybe we can go somewhere, like a pub or something, for a drink together? Please?” John was pleading, grovelling. He saw the hesitation in Paul’s eyes, and John felt a glimmer of hope. “I’m not going anywhere with you John, I’m going home. But you can walk with me and we can talk on my way back home.” Not exactly what John was hoping for, but for now it would have to do.

***

Paul took the stairs from the dark, damp cellar up to Matthew Street in a hurry, hoping John wouldn’t follow him. No such luck. He heard John call out his name again. It sounded almost……desperate? When he felt John’s hand grasp his arm and heard his plea to talk to him, he didn’t really know what to do. His feelings for John still confused him and seeing him in there tonight after so many months, had stirred up his feelings of desire. But there was also a feeling of doom. He feared John’s wrath, after those deeply painful words at their last encounter. 

And what good would it do to talk to John anyway? John would never want him the way he wanted John. Being together with him would only cause pain. But then again, what had Dusty said? He thought John did have feelings for Paul. And Dusty was queer himself, so what if he was right?

So he agreed to talk to John while walking to his apartment. “So how was Hamburg?” he asked tentatively. He wasn’t prepared for the flood of problems and negativity that came out of John’s mouth. According to John Hamburg had been nothing short of a hell. Their living arrangements had been crap, the club the played at was crap, and the stage in it was even more crap. The audience had been crap. The payment had been crap. And worst of all, the band itself had been crap, or no, absolutely, frightfully horribly crap! 

And then they had kind of been expelled out of Germany? Paul found he could hardly follow John’s erratic story, while at the same time feeling him walking so close to him. And upon their return to Liverpool the Quarrymen had found it difficult to get themselves booked, since the story of their Hamburg debacle had followed them home. So they had changed their name to The Beatles. 

“I kind of like that name” Paul interrupted John “It’s a nice wordplay, exactly the kind of thing you would come up with.” John’s eyes briefly met his. “Yeah, well, the change of name didn’t result in an increase of gigs much though. I’m actually thinking of dissolving the band.”

Paul looked at him in shock “You can’t do that! You love that band!” He stood still in the middle of the pavement. “You’ve heard us play tonight, Paul, I’m sure you agree we’re not exactly the best band around, to put it mildly.” Paul shook his head. “Yeah, well I was somewhat disappointed. You and George were okay, but Stu and Pete......Stu doesn’t show any progression at all and Pete, well, he tries, but he just doesn’t have what it takes. But to just dissolve the band......”

***

“So what have you been up to then?” he asked Paul, when he started walking again to who knows where. Certainly not in the direction of Forthlin Road. “I’m a few months into my first year in teacher-training college to become an English teacher” Paul replied. John raised his eyebrows “Studying then? Well you always did do well at school, didn’t you? And somehow I think you would be a great teacher. You’re patient and know how to explain things, you know, like when you explained me how to tune my guitar and taught me new chords. But is it what you really want to do? I can’t believe it is, you know.”

Paul once again stopped walking, and turned around looking at John with......what? Anger? “No John, it isn’t what I really want. All I ever wanted to be was a rock ‘n roll star, playing with you and the guys, but you effectively destroyed that dream by kicking me out of the band, didn’t you?” Now John became mad “I did not kick you out of the band! You refused to come with us to Hamburg! And you even refused to give me an explanation!” 

Paul sniffed angrily “We’d been friends for years, John, you knew very well what the band meant to me, and that I would never decline going abroad with you if I didn’t have a damn good reason! If our friendship had meant anything to you, you should have taken me on my word! But no, you told me you never wanted to see me again and slapped me in my face as an exclamation mark!” 

John’s eyes had gone wide, not being used to Paul talking so angrily. “I shouldn’t have hit you, sorry about that.” Paul turned around and started walking again. “Where are we going anyway? You’re going in the wrong direction for Forthlin.” John tried to keep up with Paul who had started to walk faster and faster. Damn those long legs. “I don’t live there anymore, John. I’m not a child anymore, so I don’t live with my dad anymore, I have my own apartment.” 

John was astonished. “You don’t live with your dad anymore? I kind of thought you’d be living there until you got married or something. You were always so close with him and Mike. How are they by the way?” “They are both fine, and I’m not sure why you’d think I’d still be living at home. I am 19 years old, you know.” Paul replied a bit irritated.

“But how can you afford to rent an apartment? You go to college, and I don’t suppose your dad can give you financial support.” John asked curiously. “I have an after school job. Working in the library after college from Monday to Friday, and from 9 to 5 on Saturday. It doesn’t pay a lot, but enough to pay the rent and the food.” “And when do you study then?” John wondered. “After work of course” Paul seemed a bit surprised by John’s question. “Not much spare time then” John concluded. 

Paul had suddenly stopped walking and John looked at him questioningly. “My place” Paul said, pointing at the old apartment building. Both men looked at each other hesitantly. “Are you gonna ask me up for a beer then?” John asked expectantly. “Don’t have any beer” Paul said curtly. “A Scotch will do as well.” But Paul shook his head. John was disappointed; Paul was not going to let him in then. “I can make you a cup of tea, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paul invites John in for a cup of tea! What will happen next? You'll find out next Friday!


	18. DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> So the last chapter ended with Paul asking John to join him for a cup of tea in his apartment. But will he make him that cup of tea?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul didn’t know why he had said that, but he had done so, and there was no turning back now. John’s eyes had lit up with joy. “Tea will do just fine, Macca, I’d love a cuppa, so lead the way.” Paul felt a shiver down his spine at John’s use of his nickname. Suddenly his whole body seemed to be occupied by butterflies and after opening the front door, he climbed the stairs in front of John to his apartment.

He opened the door to his apartment with some difficulty, his hands shaking with nerves. What had he done? How could he have been so stupid? Asking John in, meant he would be alone with him and he really, really didn’t know if he could handle that. He stopped quite abruptly in the small hallway, causing John to bump into him. “Oh, sorry, eh……you can hang your jacket over here” Paul pointed at the coat rack. John looked at the coat rack, then to Paul, then to the coat rack again. And then, before he realized what happened, Paul suddenly found himself pushed up against the wall with a pair of lips crushing into his.

***

John had climbed up the stairs to Paul’s apartment, looking at that perfect arse in the tight jeans in front of him. Paul. _His Paul._ After so many months. He fought the urge just to grab that delicious arse. His stomach was doing somersaults at an alarming rate and his trousers suddenly seemed way too tight. Somehow he couldn’t recall ever being so nervous before. He felt like a 16-year old on his first date. 

Paul had suddenly stopped and since John’s mind was otherwise occupied, it hadn’t registered that fact and he bumped into Paul. Paul said something…...about his jacket? But his lips looked so delicious, and he had wanted it for so many years and if he didn’t act on it now then he might never have the nerve……So he just went for it. He jumped down the rabbit hole.

Paul’s lips felt incredible soft, yet so......so……different…….so......masculine. He felt Paul’s body stiffen. He didn’t kiss back but he didn’t push him away either. John stopped and pulled away from Paul’s lips, his eyes searching Paul’s, hesitantly, frightfully. Those beautiful doe-eyes looked at him shocked, overwhelmed. Did he just ruin his chance of some kind of future with Paul, even the chance of being just friends again? Paul’s eyes were swirling with all of those beautiful colours they had and suddenly turned very dark and full of......was that......? 

Then everything happened so fast, John thought he was dreaming. Paul’s hands cupped his cheeks and his lips were on his, kissing him passionately. His own hands found his way to Paul’s face, but as he cupped those cheeks, Paul’s lips left his and the eyes searching John’s were full of lust. After a few seconds of staring in each other’s eyes, their lips crushed into each other, and they started kissing feverishly, deeply, as their hands started roaming each other’s bodies, fingers running through each other’s hair, their lower bodies pressing onto each other desperately. John’s already half erect cock grew harder when he felt Paul was in much of the same state. He moaned. “Paul......Paul......”

***

Paul couldn’t believe what was happening. John had kissed him! His stomach made some kind of free fall and for a second he didn’t know how to react. But then he had kissed back and he felt his whole body was tingling, especially his groin, and suddenly John’s hands were everywhere and his hands were everywhere......and their bodies pressed together, and God what did he feel there pressing against his swiftly hardening member?......And did he really hear John moaning......moaning his name? 

He ran his hands through those auburn locks he had always loved so much. He felt John’s hands on his arse, squeezing softly and he heard himself moan “Johnny......” They stopped kissing for a moment, looking in each other’s eyes, panting heavily. Then they just resumed their kissing, John’s tongue asking permission to enter Paul’s mouth and of course Paul granted him permission, because this is what he wanted, what he had wanted for ages. What he never thought would ever happen. And all at once Paul threw away all of his doubts and fears and shame as he whispered in John’s mouth feverishly “Bedroom?” 

He felt John pushing him towards the living room and Paul stumbled backwards, only prevented from falling because of John’s arms encircling him. He started stepping backwards in the direction of his bedroom, never letting go of John for one second. He felt John’s hands trying to unbutton his shirt and he let him, trembling, shivering and when John’s hands touched his naked skin, Paul thought he was about to come in his pants. Shit…....this felt so incredibly wonderful, so new……

”John, I’ve never......” he managed to stutter. “Neither have I, baby, neither have I......” and then John pulled his own shirt over his head and their arms were around each other again, their naked chests now touching. His hands were roaming John’s back, feeling his muscles, the warmth of his skin. And John’s hands caressing his back felt divine and......John suddenly pulled away from him, leaving Paul confused. But then he saw John unbuttoning his jeans and the man dropped them to the ground together with his underpants revealing......Oh my God……….

***

He looked at Paul’s naked chest as he dropped his pants, revealing his full erection. Then his eyes wandered up to Paul’s, wide, feverish, full of longing. But there was also......doubt? John’s eyes wandered down again, lower, lower to stop at Paul’s groin. He saw Paul’s hands trying to unbutton his jeans, but his hands were shaking so hard, he didn’t manage to do so. “Let me do it” John whispered hoarsely and he took a step forwards, his hands covering Paul’s. 

Paul let his hands drop next to his body as he watched John’s hands starting to unbutton his jeans. “Shhh, shhh, relax, love, relax” John tried to reassure the slightly trembling young man in front of him, feeling Paul’s uncertainty. As he shoved down Paul’s pants and boxers and as the boy’s cock sprang free, John’s breath hitched. “Paul......” 

He looked up at Paul’s face again, now adorned with an adorable blush. His hands cupped his cheeks and they kissed again, deeply, passionately, as he slowly pushed Paul backwards to the bed, Paul’s hands resting on John’s chest. As Paul’s legs touched the bed, there was a slight hesitation from both of them, but then John pushed the gorgeous young man on the bed and covered his body with his own.

He heard Paul moan, heard himself moan, as their cocks rubbed against each other. It was pure bliss. Paul’s arms encircled John’s back, holding him close as his own hands stroked Paul’s side, his waist, his hips, the outside of his thighs. Their mouths never disconnected, nibbling, sucking, licking, biting. Their tongues playing together, exploring each other passionately. 

“Paul, Paul, Paul, oh baby, yes, yes, yes, so good, so good!” He kept rubbing his groin against Paul’s, the delicious friction almost kicking him over the edge. He opened his eyes, he didn’t realize he’d closed them, and he looked into the most beautiful eyes in the world, very dark right now and full of passion. 

The young man underneath looked up to him and moaned “Johnny, yes, yes, I......I......I can’t......hold on......I’m gonna come!” John felt Paul’s body stiffen and he saw him throw his head back and his eyes roll away. And those moist lips......he looked so fuckin’ beautiful. He felt Paul’s sperm against his own belly and it kicked him over the edge as well. “Fuck Paul, Paul, Paul, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He threw his head back and felt his own sperm between their bodies, mingling with Paul’s and then he collapsed on that beautiful body beneath him. 

Both of them were panting heavily, lying on the bed, John’s body covering Paul’s, his head in the crook of Paul’s neck, his lips touching the skin there, his hands caressing Paul’s sides. One of Paul’s arms was around his waist, holding him in place. His other hand was caressing John’s hair, stroking it with such tenderness it almost made John cry. He had never been so happy in his life.

***

He had never felt so good before, this was the best fuckin’ orgasm he’d ever had. And it had happened with a man. It had happened with John. He kept stroking John’s beautiful auburn hair, so incredibly soft, while his other arm held him close. He didn’t want this moment to end, he wanted to relish every second of it. He felt John’s lips against the skin of his neck, the man’s panting body covering his own and for the first time in a very long time (was it since his mum died?) he felt completely at peace. This is what he wanted, what he had longed for, but never thought he would have. _John._

The minutes passed and their panting slowed down to a soft breathing. John seemed to have fallen asleep on top of him. “Eh, John, you’re getting a bit heavy here.” John raised his head and looked into Paul’s eyes, a big smile on his face. “Suppose you want me to move then?” Paul smiled back at him shyly. “As much as I love to feel your body on top of me, I am getting a bit crushed. And I think I want to wash off this sticky wetness on my belly as well.” 

John groaned and rolled off of Paul, almost falling off the bed in the process. “It’s a bit sticky” Paul chuckled at the sound their skin made as they separated. He had moved over a bit so John could lie next to him. 

They both lingered on their backs for a while, their arms and legs touching, their eyes staring at the ceiling. “That was really something” Paul sighed contently. “It certainly was” John replied. “Much, much better than with a bird, don’t you think so?” Paul turned his head and faced John’s profile, remaining silent for a while. 

“So you’ve been with birds then, have you?” he asked shyly. “Yeah, lots of them in Hamburg, you know, they practically threw themselves at me. Why do you ask?” John turned his head to face Paul. “You must have had your share of them, they are probably lining up for you.”

Paul felt a blush running up his cheeks. There had been a lot of girls that had expressed their interest in him, and he even dated a few, but he had never taken one home, things had never gone further than a quick kiss on the cheek, saying goodnight. He never could bring himself to go further, because he was still so hopelessly in love with John. 

“I told you I had never done it before” he admitted softly. “I thought you meant with a man” John replied, looking at Paul astonished. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had an orgasm before?” Paul chuckled “Of course I’ve had orgasms before, you git. I have a very capable left hand, you know.” They looked at each other for a few seconds and then started laughing. “Gosh, Paul, so I kind of deflowered you then!” And for a moment Mr. Maxwell crossed Paul’s mind.

***

John could hardly believe it. He was the first person in the word to have sex with this beautiful young man. And what fantastic sex it had been! He had never felt so completely satisfied before. He had finally bedded Paul! _His Paul!_ That stunning boy he had wanted for so long had actually returned his feelings. “Could you hand me the tissues please, they’re on the nightstand.” John was awoken out of his reverie. “Oh yeah, that seems like a good idea” John said as he eyed the pool of sperm on Paul’s belly. 

He watched as Paul cleaned himself up. He let his eyes wander over Paul’s body: the long, slim hairy legs, the delicious thighs, the taut belly with the thin line of black hair, the chest with the pink nipples and just the right amount of dark hair. The long neck, the beautiful, exquisite face, the thick, silky almost black hair, the long arms with an abundance of hair on the underarms, leading to those elegant hands. And then his eyes wandered down again, to the thick, black pubic hair, and there nestled in it......

“You never told me you were circumcised” he suddenly blurted out. Paul chuckled “You never asked me.” John grinned “Would you have told me if I had asked?” Paul looked at John pensively “Yeah, why not. But it’s not a common thing to just talk about, is it now? Like, “Hello, I’m Paul, and I’m circumcised, what about you.” It’s not something you tell out of the blue is it? By the way you never told me you weren’t.” John laughed out loud “Somehow the subject never came up, Macca. But by the way, I think it’s gorgeous. Your cock that is. I like it. A lot” 

He saw Paul blush and his teeth were chewing his bottom lip shyly. He simply looked adorable. “It’s not really that big though, it’s kind of......average?” John’s hand stroke Paul’s cheek tenderly “It’s not the size that matters, Macca. And what’s wrong with average anyway? I’d rather go for beauty than size.” Paul chuckled “Well, I suppose I can’t call you Johnny anymore, I think I’ll have to go for Big John.” 

John laughed out loud “Thanks for the compliment, love, but I’m really not that much bigger than you. And by the way, don’t ever stop calling me Johnny. I love it when you call me that, always have. Gave me butterflies every time I heard you call me that, you know.” He stroked Paul’s cheek again “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, you know, I just can’t keep my eyes of you.” Paul blushed again “You’re not so bad yourself Johnny, I always thought you looked amazing.” Paul ran his fingers through John’s hair again and then a single finger stroke John’s nose. “I like your nose, you know.”

John’s eyes widened in astonishment “ _My nose?_ That fuckin’ big, crooked, awful thing that totally spoils my face? You like _my nose?_ ” Paul’s eyes twinkled “Yeah it makes you look like a Roman Emperor, so......so masculine and so......so......dignified. It doesn’t spoil your face at all, it makes your face very special. It gives you an air of authority.” John shook his head in disbelieve “You silly git! Well since I’m the emperor here, I suppose I can give the commands. And right now I command it’s time for more sex!” and he slid his hand down Paul’s body to grab a hold of that delicious member of his.

***

Paul moaned when John touched his cock and started stroking it. He felt himself harden, unbelievable really, it had been like…....what........an hour since he had his orgasm? But it felt so good, so erotic, so......”Oh, John, mmmm, yes, like that” He looked in John’s lust filled, brown, almond shaped eyes, so beautiful, so beautiful……

They were lying on their sides, facing each other and he pressed his lips against John’s, one hand on John’s shoulder, the other one against John’s chest. Their kisses became more and more greedy, dirty, as passion took over their common senses. “Paul, baby, baby, touch me please” he heard John breath against his lips, while he was cupping Paul’s balls with one hand and stroking his cock with the other.

For a moment Mr. Maxwell came to Paul’s mind again and he heard the man’s voice “Come on, boy, touch me, stroke me, harder, you little slut!” He quickly shook the mental image away. This wasn’t Mr. Maxwell, this was John. He loved John! He slid his hand from John’s chest down his body until he felt his pubic hair. He already felt John’s erection pressing against his belly and as he took it in his hand, he heard John moan deeply. 

The sound turned Paul on immensely and he started stroking John’s member in the same tempo John stroked his. They found a perfect rhythm, looking in each other’s eyes feverishly, kissing over and over, their tongues battling for dominance. 

John came first this time. Paul felt John’s body stiffen, and with an almost animalistic groan, he spilled his seed over Paul’s hands. And again the sound of John’s voice made Paul forget everything and he came himself, wave after wave of semen spraying against John’s hand, John’s belly, the sheets. Well, he would have to change those tomorrow, wouldn’t he? But tomorrow could wait. All he wanted right now, was to fall asleep in the arms of the man who had so miraculously come back into his life again today. The man he was never gonna let go away again, never. He sighed deeply, contently, and fell in a deep sleep in the arms of the man he had loved since he was just fourteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that happened! It took them (and me) 18 chapters to get to this point, but it finally happened! But what will happen next? Find out about it in chapter 19, coming up next Tuesday!


	19. THE MORNING AFTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> In the last chapter John and Paul finally made love! But what will happen the next morning? Will their sexual encounter prove to be just a one-night stand? Or will it blossom into something more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John woke up feeling very hot. It felt as he was lying against a radiator. He opened his eyes and checked: he was indeed lying against a radiator, a human one, by the name of Paul. The naked body pressed to his felt very warm, their entwined legs and arms increasing the heath. John closed his eyes again. Paul’s body heath. Not too bad that. Very nice actually. 

His thumb started to run circles on the boy’s naked back. What a wonderful night it had been! Who would have thought that not only would he meet Paul again after such a long time, but that he would make love to him? That Paul obviously felt the same about him as he had about him? Had wanted the same thing? It made him feel all warm inside as well.

He opened his eyes again, admiring Paul’s face. The face with those perfectly shaped black eyebrows above those now closed eyes with the long eyelashes resting on the ivory skin of his cheeks. Full, rosy lips with a very distinctive Cupid’s Bow, slightly ajar in sleep. So beautiful it looked almost feminine, if it wasn’t for the rather heavy five o’clock shadow. And all of it framed by that abundance of silky, nearly black hair. And this stunning young man had been his last night! And hopefully not just last night, but for many, many nights to come. A lifetime of nights. John sighed contently. 

He looked at Paul’s eyelids again and suddenly remembered a thought he had years ago. He had wanted to kiss Paul’s eyelids. He couldn’t really understand why, but those eyelids attracted his lips like a flower to bees, and he bent forward to softly kiss them one by one. Paul moved a little and hummed contently, a soft smile appearing on his lips. He didn’t wake up however, and John continued watching him sleep, his thumb never stopped running circles on Paul’s back. His foot started to run up and down Paul’s shin, feeling the soft hairs there. It felt divine. 

Paul moved again and suddenly opened one eye, peeking from underneath the long lashes. “Morning Johnny” a low hoarse voice said, making shivers run down John’s spine. “Morning baby, did you sleep well?” John smiled softly into the beautiful eyes that were now both open. God, how could anyone have such gorgeous eyes? “I slept extremely well, but then you really worn me out last night” Paul chuckled. “Did you eh…....did you enjoy it?” John asked a bit cautiously. “Yeah, I did, very much so. I wish……I wish we had done this years ago.” John nodded in agreement “God we’ve wasted so much time!”

***

“Well, you didn’t waste much time yesterday, that’s for sure” Paul grinned as he looked at John’s messy morning hair, reaching out to run his fingers through it. “Yeah, well I thought I’d better strike while the iron was hot, before I lost my nerve.” Paul suddenly looked at John with a serious expression on his face. “I’m so glad you did. I don’t think I would have had the nerve to take the first step. I would have been so afraid you would laugh at me, call me names and push me away.” John stroked his cheek, pushing a lock of hair out of his face. “I wasn’t too sure about it either, I really had no idea how you would react. But I knew I just had to go for it, or else I might never dare to take that step. I’ve been longing for you for so long.” 

They stared into each other’s eyes silently for a while. Then Paul looked down bashfully. “I...…eh…...I think I’m gonna take a shower. I feel like I’m sticky all over.” He got out of bed, and realizing he was stark naked, quickly put on yesterday’s boxers, making John laugh. “Hey, you don’t have to cover up on my account, I rather like the view!” Paul felt himself blush deeply. Damn why did he always blush so quickly? Not really knowing what to say he walked out of the bedroom towards the bathroom. “I’ll make it quick, so you can shower afterwards” he called out to John, who was still lying on the bed.

Paul looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Something had changed, his eyes seemed to shine, there was an undeniable smile on his lips. He looked……happy. God, how he hoped this would last forever, that it wasn’t just a one-night stand. After being apart for so many months, he couldn’t bear to be separated from John again after everything that happened last night. He took off his boxers and stepped into the shower, turning on the water at just the right temperature. He felt the hot water run down his body and it felt so good it made him sigh contently. 

He closed his eyes enjoying the feeling, as suddenly a pair of arms slid around his waist from behind, a warm body pressing to his back. “I don’t think I can wait until you’re finished, baby” a husky voice whispered in his ear. For a moment, Paul’s knees were getting weak, but John’s strong arms prevented him from falling. “Johnny……”

***

John watched Paul leave the room and then stared at the ceiling, feeling cold without the warmth of Paul’s body. So they both had wanted each other all along, but had been too scared to act on it. They had wasted so much time circling around one another instead of giving in to their feelings and desires. But that’s what life was like in a world that didn’t except homosexuality, what’s more, even considered it a crime! Damn, they had to be careful nobody found out about them, otherwise they could end up in jail! 

He heard the shower being turned on. He really could use a shower, being all sticky with dried cum. _Paul’s cum._ The thought made him smile. So, why wait ‘till Paul was ready? Wouldn’t it be much more fun to take a shower together? John imagined that gorgeous body all slippery and wet and felt a tingling feeling in his groin. Yeah, definitely needed a shower right now, at this instance, no need to wait for Paul to finish. John jumped out of bed, a big grin on his face, anticipating things to come, and headed for the bathroom stark naked.

Through the shower curtain he could see Paul’s silhouette and he heard him humming a cheerful tune he didn’t recognize. Probably something Paul made up on the spot, there was always music flowing out of him, like water from a faucet. Such a musical lad, his Paul. He approached the shower, waited a few seconds, shoved the shower curtain away and stepped under the shower, his arms encircling Paul’s waist from behind, pressing his body against Paul’s back, his engorged penis finding a perfect place between Paul’s butt cheeks. Paul’s breath caught and then he suddenly seemed to tense up. 

John started to rub his cock between Paul’s butt cheeks. “Oh baby, so good, so good” he gasped in Paul’s ear. Paul didn’t react at all, but his whole body had become stiff. He loosened himself from John’s grip and turned around. He looked at John with eyes that suddenly seemed to be full of…….of what? Was that fear he saw in those wide, hazel eyes?

***

Suddenly he felt John’s body press against his. It felt so good at first, but then he felt the man’s erection between his butt cheeks. His whole body went stiff; he didn’t want that! He managed to get out of John’s arms and turned around. John looked at him puzzled. “Paul?” Paul swallowed nervously, how could he explain he didn’t want that? John seemed to search his eyes for an answer, but what could he say? Suddenly he felt John’s hand sliding down his body, grabbing his cock. Now that felt good, he didn’t mind that. Not at all! As John started touching him, Paul felt himself harden and he moaned. John’s mouth found his and Paul parted his lips to let John’s tongue in. They kissed deeply for a while, John never stopping to jerk Paul off.

John stopped kissing his lips, his mouth sliding down his neck, nibbling, licking, then further down to his chest and, oh my God, he took his left nipple in his mouth! Paul’s knees almost gave in, it was like his body was struck by lightning! He moaned loudly, he never realized that his nipples were so sensitive, John’s nibbling and licking felt absolutely amazing. John’s mouth now teased his right nipple. Paul’s erection grew even harder and he heard himself pant “John, oh John…...” 

John stopped licking his nipple and Paul felt bereft for a moment. But then he felt John’s tongue going down over his chest, over his belly, licking his belly button, before following the narrow line of black hair down, down, down to………

***

John was a bit startled by the fear he saw in Paul’s eyes. Maybe he was moving too fast? After all, Paul was quite a bit younger than him and, as he had found out, had no sexual experience, not even with girls. He let his hand wander down Paul’s body and grabbed his flaccid cock. It didn’t stay flaccid much longer as he started stroking the boy’s member to a full erection. 

He kissed those luscious lips and then his lips explored Paul’s neck, shoulders and chest. As he took a nipple in his mouth, he felt Paul react intensely to his actions. Paul’s moaning was an immense turn-on for him and he eagerly licked his way downwards. His tongue played with Paul’s bellybutton and as he sank down to his knees, Paul’s erection was in front of his face. 

He hesitated for a moment. Of course he had experienced blow-jobs by birds, so he knew how good it felt. But going down on a man himself was something entirely different. But this was Paul. His Paul. The young man he had wanted for so long. He wanted to give him pleasure. So he threw away all caution and licked the rosy tip. Paul’s deep moans turned him on and after a few licks, he decided to take the whole length in his mouth. 

Paul’s body bucked, causing his cock to shove further in John’s mouth, making him gag. John let go of Paul’s cock, coughing, tears springing to his eyes. “S-sorry, sorry..….” he heard Paul stammer. “It’s okay, love, it’s okay” he answered and he resumed his blow-job, trying to remember what he had liked when a bird went down on him.

He really started to get the hang of it. And although it was hard work and his jaws started to get tired, he also enjoyed it. It felt so special, so intimate to have the hard member of his lover in his mouth, making him moan. He looked up to see Paul’s face. The man looked stunning, slippery and wet, leaning against the wall, eyes closed, those full lips slightly ajar, while the hot water was pouring over them. Pleasure was written all over that beautiful face and when John ran one hand along the inside of Paul’s hairy leg, he heard him sigh full of desire.

***

Paul could hardly comprehend what was happening to him. John’s mouth on his cock felt so delicious, warm and wet. Absolutely divine! It was such an overwhelming feeling of intense pleasure that he hardly managed to keep standing, so he leaned his back against the shower wall for support. He felt his climax near and suddenly started panicking a bit. He couldn’t come in John’s mouth! He remembered all too well the horrible taste of a man’s cum in his own mouth. 

“John, please, stop, I’m gonna come!” he managed to say. But John didn’t pull back, he just hummed contently. Paul tried to push John away, while a part of him never wanted to lose the feeling of John’s mouth. “John please, I can’t hold on much longer, please stop before I come……….ahhhh!” 

Paul couldn’t control himself anymore and he spilt his sperm in John’s mouth, who started coughing and let Paul’s cock slip out of his mouth, trying to spit out Paul’s cum. “Jesus, Paul” John managed to mumble between coughs, “You could have told me it tastes this awful. I didn’t expect it to taste like a beer, but this is really, really bad. Yuk!” 

Paul started laughing nervously and uncontrollably at John’s words and the disgusted frown on his face. “I told you to stop John, I warned you I was gonna come, but you didn’t listen. You just kept on going. Not my fault I ended up coming in your mouth!” John stood up and rinsed his mouth with the warm water that was still pouring down on them. “Next time just kick me to warn me, okay, I was just so into it I didn’t really hear you.” And then he added, rather shyly “Was it any good, by the way? My first time giving a blow-job, so I was just hoping I was doing the right things, you know.” 

Paul stopped laughing “Any good? John it was absolutely amazing! I’ve never come so hard in my life!” He felt John wrap his arms around his waist, pressing his body against his own, feeling John’s erection pressing against his now flaccid cock. “What about returning the favour then?” John asked huskily, a grin on his lips and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. And suddenly it seemed Paul’s whole world turned black.

***

“Come on, boy, open your fuckin’ mouth!” the man ordered him, his hands pulling Paul’s hair to bring his face closer to that enormous cock. He looked at it with wide eyes, full of fear. He didn’t want that in his mouth, no way it would even fit! He was only nine after all and that penis was so big. 

Mr. Maxwell pulled his head back by his hair, causing Paul to open up his mouth, and he felt the man’s erection entering his mouth. It felt horrible, he started gagging and coughing, but the man kept on going, pushing in and pulling back, again and again, not taking into account Paul’s gagging and the tears that had started to stream down his cheeks. He was gonna throw up! He just knew it!

Suddenly a warm bitter fluid filled his mouth. It tasted horrific and he wanted to spit it out, but the older man kept his head in place, painfully pulling his hair. He tried not to swallow, but he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe! So he swallowed the man’s cum, gagging, coughing, crying. He had never liked it when Mr. Maxwell told him to jerk him off, never liked the sperm spilled over his hands, but this was so terrible, he felt so incredible filthy and the taste in his mouth was so awful!

“You little slut, you liked that, didn’t you? Well I promise you, this won’t be the last time!” Mr. Maxwell wiped off his flaccid cock on Paul’s cheeks and left the bedroom, leaving a completely devastated nine-year old crying on the bed.

***

John watched in horror as Paul suddenly just seemed to slip away. Paul’s eyes were closed and his body felt heavy in John’s arms, as if he couldn’t stand upon his own two feet anymore. “Paul? Paul what’s wrong, love? Paul, talk to me baby! Paul come on now, what’s happening? Paul!” What on earth was happening, did Paul just faint? Why?

Suddenly Paul opened his eyes again and his feet seemed to find solid ground again, but his eyes were unfocused. “Paul, are you alright?” Paul’s eyes slowly focused on John’s, but they were full of fear, the same fear he had seen there just a few moments before he went down on him. What was Paul afraid of? 

“Paul, baby, are you alright?” The fear in those gorgeous eyes slowly turned into confusion. “John?’  
Paul’s state spooked John, it seemed like he didn’t know where he was and was surprised to see John there. “Yeah, it’s me, I’m here, what did just happen, baby?” Paul’s confusion slowly disappeared as he looked at John with eyes that suddenly showed embarrassment, while he chewed his bottom lip. “I..….I…...I don’t know, everything just went black, but I’m alright now, you can let go of me now” indicating John’s arms that were trying to keep Paul upright. 

“Paul, are you…...are you afraid of me?” Paul’s eyes widened and he raised those perfect eyebrows. “Afraid of you? Of course not! Why would I be afraid of you?” John stroked Paul’s cheek tenderly “It’s your eyes, you know. You’ve got very telling eyes, I can see all kind of emotions in them, and just now I saw fear in them.” 

“Of course I’m not afraid of you John! It’s just…...just…...well, I…...I don’t think I can……I mean…...” Paul suddenly looked so helpless and fragile right now, it melted John’s heart. Words were leaving his mouth that he, the great, cool John Lennon, who usually just grabbed any bird without consideration about their feelings, normally would never say. “I’m moving too fast for you, aren’t I? After all you’re much younger and less experienced than me. Maybe we should take things more slowly, eh?” He saw gratitude in the big hazel eyes. 

“You’re not angry with me then?” Paul asked, slightly blushing. God the boy looked adorable when he blushed. “Of course I’m not angry, you silly git! A bit disappointed maybe, but certainly not angry!” Paul blushed even deeper. “I could give you a hand though, if you like.” John smiled, endeared by Paul’s shyness, then he responded with a mischievous grin “That very capable left hand of yours? I’m all for it!” And for the next few minutes he drifted away in a state of bliss as Paul’s really, extremely capable left hand worked wonders on his cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Paul's secret past is like a dark cloud hanging over him, giving him anxiety attacks when it comes to sex. But of course John still doesn't know what has happened to Paul. How will this affect their relationship?


	20. SPENDING THE DAY TOGETHER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> It's Sunday and Paul doesn't have to go to college or work. So after a night and morning together, he spends the rest of the day with John as well. But then John asks a question Paul can't answer. And Paul suddenly remembers something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

He felt so stupid, so embarrassed. What must John think of him? That he was some kind of wimp, not daring to go down on him, after John had just given him a hell of a blow-job? It had been John’s first time doing that and he hadn’t been afraid to do it? It would hardly be the first time for himself, having a man’s cock in his mouth now, would it? So he knew what it felt like. But it hadn’t been a very pleasant experience though, as a matter of fact, he had hated it. He hated Mr. Maxwell. But this was John! He _loved_ John!

As he stroked John to his climax he tried to give himself a mental shake. Get a grip McCartney! John’s not gonna want a wimp for a boyfriend! _Boyfriend?_ Did he really think of John as his boyfriend? Yes he did, and the thought warmed his heart. He tried to concentrate more on what he was doing, on John’s body, his moans, and when he felt John’s cum on his hands and heard John’s cries of pleasure, he felt a bit proud. _He_ did that, _he_ had made John come! 

When they finally stepped out of the shower and were drying off, their eyes never let go of each other, and there were smiles on their faces. “You’ve really got a delicious arse, you know” John suddenly commented. Paul chuckled. “You’ve got beautiful hands.” Paul saw John raise his eyebrows “Hands? I compliment your arse and you praise my bloody hands? There’s nothing special about my hands!” Paul shook his head “You’ve really got beautiful hands, Johnny, they’re strong and beautifully shaped, I’ve always loved them.” 

Now John shook his head. “You’ve gotta be joking! I’ve always wanted hands like yours. Elegant with long, slim fingers. I remember the first time I really noticed them. You were playing piano in the music classroom at the Inny. I don’t think you saw me, but I heard you play a beautiful, sad tune I hadn’t heard before and I saw your hands dancing across the keys, and I remember thinking how beautiful your hands were. And I’ve always loved the way your hands seem to dance when you talk!” Paul chuckled “I always wondered how those strong hands of yours would feel on my body, you know. I think you’ve got the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen.” 

Paul chuckled again “What are we anyway? Members of the hand-fetish association?” He saw John’s eyes starting to twinkle, the grin on his face grow wider and then John exploded in laughter. “The…...the…...hand-fet…….fetish association, the HFA! Oh God Paul, if something like that existed, we would probably be honorary members for sure!” Paul started laughing as well. “I think that’s better than being a member of the AFA. “The _what?_ ” John looked at him puzzled. “The AFA, the arse-fetish association. Just imagine what a meeting of that association would look like!”  


***

John had missed these silly conversations with Paul. None of his friends matched Paul when it came to wit and repartee. They had always had so much fun together. How could he have thrown that away? He could have asked Paul back to the band after their return from Hamburg. Or better even, they shouldn’t have gone to Hamburg without Paul at all. It had hardly been a successful adventure now, had it?

After they had both put on their boxers (“you don’t have to put them on on my account, Macca” “Yes I do, I didn’t pay my contribution to the AFA, Johnny”) and thrown on a shirt (John had borrowed a clean one from Paul), John asked Paul for something to eat. “My stomach is rumbling, Paul, after all the hard work last night and this morning.” 

Paul looked at him with a frown. “Don’t have much in the cupboard. Just some cornflakes and milk really. Or, wait a minute, I can make some scrambled eggs. No bread to make toast though.” John was opening the small fridge, that appeared to be rather……empty, as were the cupboards. 

“Really, Paul, what do you eat to stay alive?” Paul looked at him with a wide grin “Cornflakes and scrambled eggs.” John turned to him in amazement “Cornflakes and scrambled eggs? That’s all? Every day?” “Eh yeah, usually that’s just it. With toast and bacon, but I forgot to buy that. I do make the occasional sausage and mash though, when I think of buying the groceries, that is.” 

John couldn’t believe it. “Don’t you get hungry? I mean, that’s a real scanty diet, isn’t it?” Paul shrugged “I’m not such a big eater, so no, I don’t get hungry. I can also make you a cup of tea. I’ve got plenty of that.” John shook his head in disbelieve “You better scramble a lot of eggs then, to supplement my lost proteins. And I would die for a cuppa.” 

***

They ate their eggs sitting on the couch, plates on their knees, cup of tea on the small coffee-table. “Paul, why didn’t you want to come to Hamburg with me?” Paul was startled by his question. “I…...I…...did _want_ to come, I wanted it very much, I just……I just _couldn’t._ ” John looked in Paul’s eyes “Why not, Paul, you never explained to me why not.” He really needed to know the reason, it had hurt so much when Paul refused to come with him. He had been so looking forward to it. 

“Please don’t ask me why, John, please. Just believe me when I tell you I had a very, very good reason. I mean, I wanted to come with you more than anything, it just…...it just wasn’t possible at that time. But I _can’t_ tell you why, I _really can’t_ , John, please don’t make me tell.” There was pure desperation in Paul’s eyes as he pleaded with John. 

“Don’t you trust me, Paul?” “Of course I trust you, John, I do! But I just can’t tell you, _please_ don’t make me tell you.” John saw how Paul tried to hold back his tears desperately, blinking his eyes and he saw his Adam’s apple bop. He looked so forlorn, that John couldn’t help himself. He put his plate on the coffee-table, took away Paul’s plate as well, sat closer to the young man and hugged him fiercely. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay. I won’t ask any further. Maybe I should have realized you wouldn’t waive coming to Hamburg if you didn’t have a damn good reason. I just wish..…..I just hoped…....that you would be able to tell me your reasons now.” 

He felt Paul tremble in his arms. Something was very, very wrong there, and Paul wasn’t able to talk about it. And that was okay, he was happy to have the boy back and he shouldn’t push him. Maybe one day Paul would find the courage to tell him. But not now. He should just be patient. He chuckled inside. When did he become such an understanding, patient and rational thinking bloke? He hardly recognized himself. Paul most certainly had a weird effect on him! He tried to reassure Paul by whispering sweet nothings in his ear and rubbing circles on his back.  


***

John’s sudden question about his denial to go to Hamburg with him, had startled Paul. But feeling John’s arms around him, soothing him with soft words and rubbing his back, made him relax. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, You must think I’m a real wimp” he sniffed. ”First with not daring to go down on you and now this…..”

“No, baby, I don’t think that at all. I just think you need time. And I will give you time. I will give you all the time you need, love. We’ve waited so long to be together, wasted so much time, and here we are, together at last. I’m sure I can find it in me to give you more time. And if you never want to tell me the reason for not coming to Hamburg with me, then that’s okay. I will accept that. But I’m not so sure about that _blow-job.……”_

Paul chuckled at John’s last words. His words made him feel much better and he sighed deeply, content in John’s arms. “We better finish our eggs before they grow cold.” He released himself from John’s arms and wiped the tears from his eyes. John’s hand reached out and stroked his cheek tenderly. “Everything will be alright, Paul, we’ve got each other now, everything’s gonna work out for us. We can find our way somehow.” Paul felt his heart beat faster at John’s touch. A feeling of deep happiness occupied his heart, mind and body, his entire being. Yeah, they were together at last, and everything was going to be alright. 

After they had finished their eggs, they curled up on the couch together, holding each other, caressing each other, little kisses here and there, while they talked about everything under the sun. It felt so right, Paul had a hard time imagining he could ever have lived without John. His eye caught the clock hanging on the wall. 4 o’clock already. 4 o’clock. _4 o’clock!!!_ “Shit, it’s 4 o’clock! I have to go, John! Oh shit, I completely forgot the time. I’m supposed to be at my dad’s for Sunday roast!”  


***

“You _what?_ ’ John asked surprised, as Paul jumped up from the couch and practically ran to the bedroom. “I have to go to me dad’s. I always have Sunday roast with him and Mike. I was supposed to be there half an hour ago” Paul called from the bedroom, where he was frantically trying to put on his clothes. “So you are just leaving me alone then? What am I supposed to do?” John had gotten up from the couch and had followed Paul into the bedroom. “Eh, I don’t know, go home maybe?” John watched Paul struggling to put on his drainies. “ _Go home?_ Can’t I just stay here ‘till you come back? Or maybe I can come with you! Yeah I could come with you!”

Paul turned to him “Come with me? How do I explain that to my dad? "Hi dad, I brought John, you know the one who kicked me out of his band several months ago. I met him yesterday and now I sleep with him". Don’t think that would go down well. Dad was pretty angry when you kicked me out, you know. And anyway, there wouldn’t be enough food to feed four of us instead of three. Dad still has to watch every penny, so he makes just enough for himself, me and Mike.”

John pouted. “So I just have to wait here till you come back?” Paul shook his head “Don’t you wanna go home and have a change of clothes and brush your teeth?” John pouted even more. “Why would I? I can use _your_ clothes and toothbrush.” Paul pulled a face “My toothbrush? Yuk John, that’s gross!” “Gross? Why? You didn’t mind my tongue in your mouth! As a matter of fact I remember it made you moan of pleasure! Ah come on Paul, let me stay!” 

He really, really didn’t want to go home and he really, really didn’t want Paul to go to his dad’s either. He just wanted to spend every waking hour with him. But Paul seemed relentless. “John I won’t be home till late and I have to get up early tomorrow morning. Got to do some studying before I go to college tomorrow. Usually I would have done that today, but eh…….things happened, as you know.”

John felt disappointment taking over. “Paul, come on now, we’ve been apart for so long, I don’t think I can stand being away from you again!” Paul bent over to tie his shoelaces “I really have to go now John, just close the door on your way out, okay?” As Paul was putting on his coat, he grabbed the young man’s arm. “Paul, baby, please stay. Can’t you call your dad to say you’re not coming today? There’s a phone booth just outside…...” 

Paul shook his head. “No John, I’m sorry, I would love to stay here with you, but I really have to go to my dad’s. But we will see each other soon, won’t we?” John groaned “How soon is _soon,_ baby? When will I see you again?” “I have to go to college, John, and after college I work at the library each day, as well as Saturday all day, so maybe Saturday night?” “ _Saturday night?!_ That’s a whole bloody _week!_ I can’t live without you for so long! I’ve got to see you sooner than that! I won’t survive without you for so long!”  


***

Paul was at a crossroads. He didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to stay with John right now, but he knew he had to go to his dad’s. He couldn’t just call the weekly appointment off this late. Dad would be so disappointed if he did. And it wouldn’t be practical if John would be here when he came back, because he had to get up very early tomorrow to do the studying he hadn’t managed to do today due to……circumstances. And he knew very well he wouldn’t be able to get up early if he was lying in John’s arms. But having to wait till Saturday to see him again? That didn’t exactly seem an attractive idea either.

“Maybe…….maybe you can come over Monday evening after work?” John sighed. “Yeah alright then, I’d rather stay the night, but I suppose I could go home for clean clothes and see you tomorrow. What time will you be home then?” Paul smiled softly. “I finish work at five thirty. I usually stop by the shops to get some food and I’ll be home around six forty-five.” John pulled him toward him by his waist. “I’ll be waiting for you baby” John whispered huskily. He felt John’s lips on his and felt his knees go weak. He almost decided to stay home and call his dad off. _Almost._ Then he quickly opened the door and left.  


***

Jim greeted his elder son eagerly. “Hello son, you’re a bit late, aren’t you. I was afraid something might have happened” He hugged Paul tightly. When Paul had told him he was moving out a few months after he started teacher-college, Jim had felt forlorn. His eldest leaving home so soon. Since Paul was going to college in Liverpool, Jim had expected him to stay at home. But Paul had been determined, he was eighteen after all, and he was going to stand on his own two feet from now on. Jim knew he shouldn’t object, but still he had tried to convince his son otherwise. It had been in vain. They did agree on Paul coming over for Sunday roast every week and that Paul would check in regularly.

When Mary died, Paul had only been eight years old, Mike had been five. Far too young to lose your mother. Those big doe-eyes of his eldest had suddenly held such sadness in them, it was hard to look at him sometimes. Jim, grieving his beloved wife, had found it hard to console his two young sons. He had noticed how Paul had become very protective over his younger brother. It had always moved him deeply. He loved those boys so much, after all, they were all he had left of Mary. 

When he had realized that, without Mary’s income, he had to work overtime to make ends meet, he had been very concerned. He couldn’t just leave his two young boys alone at night. His sisters were helping out and could babysit every now and then, but they weren’t always available, since they had young children of their own. He had been so grateful when Mr. Maxwell, who lived further down the road, had stepped up and offered to mind his boys. And for free as well, that being a big advantage since Jim had been really short on money. “It gives me something to do Mr. McCartney, instead of being home alone.” 

Paul had grown into a very handsome young lad, he was academically bright, and was very musical with a beautiful singing voice, even after his voice had changed. Mary would have been so proud of him. And so was Jim. But those eyes never lost that touch of sadness. That is, until he befriended that Lennon boy. Jim couldn’t understand why Paul seemed to like him so much, they were so different! But when he joined John’s band, Paul’s eyes began to regain their sparkle again, and Jim just wanted his son to be happy. 

And so Jim pushed aside the dislike he had for the Lennon boy. And then the kid had just kicked Paul out of that band of his! Jim had been so angry! Because the sadness had returned to his son’s eyes. But looking at his son right now, standing in the small hallway of 20 Forthlin Road, he saw the sparkle had returned.  


***

John had returned to 3 Gambier Terrace, the house he shared with Stu and some others. Nobody was home, so John sat down on his mattress, lying on the floor, since he had no bed, thinking about all that had happened in the last less than 24 hours. Not only had he met Paul again, _his Paul,_ he had also dared to come on to the beautiful boy. And Paul had answered his advances. They had actually made love! _Three times!_ And it had been so satisfying, so incredibly much better than with any bird he ever laid. He realized that this is what he wanted, what he probably had wanted from the very first day he had met Paul, because it _had_ been love at first sight, he was very sure of that now.

And the fact that Paul felt the same about him, had been such a wonderful surprise! Yes, Paul had been a bit shy and had been reluctant to go down on him, but what the hell! It was his first sexual experience after all and he was still very young, so John was sure that would change as time went by. But the sex they did have, had been amazing and he had loved how they had slept together, wrapped in each other’s arms, legs entwined. Suddenly he couldn’t imagine spending even one night without him. He couldn’t possible wait till tomorrow night! So he made a decision......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So while Paul has gone to visit his dad and Mike, what will John be up to? Find out in the next chapter!


	21. MOVING IN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John surprises Paul when he returns from his visit to his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul looked out of the window of the bus he had boarded at Penny Lane, on his way back to his apartment. It had been a typical Liverpudlian Sunday, meaning it had been depressing, grey and drizzly, but Paul didn’t feel depressed at all. He had just enjoyed a lovely Sunday roast at his dad’s, he always loved Sundays at his dad’s. He had joked around with his younger brother, Mike being his usual annoying, but funny self. 

He had talked to his dad about his studies (not about John of course, oh no!), he had caught up with all the family affairs and dad had made his usual, but very endearing, speech about him being way to skinny and that he should eat better. Paul knew he probably should, but he couldn’t be bothered to cook a decent meal for himself. Moving out to live on his own had been a major decision, and while part of him had wanted to stay in the warmth of the home his dad provided, he needed to escape the bad memories.

And now John was back in his life. _John……._ Paul closed his eyes thinking about last night and this morning, how wonderful John’s beautiful hands on his naked body had felt, how amazing his lips had felt against his, how delicious his mouth had felt around his cock, how satisfying the sex had been, how peaceful he had slept in the safety of John’s arms……

Shit! That was his stop! He had almost missed it, daydreaming like that. He straightened the collar of his coat, as he started to walk the short distance to his apartment, humming a merry tune. He had something to look forward to, he was going to see John tomorrow night! He turned around the corner to find said man sitting on the steps of his front door. _“John?”_

***

John had made a decision. He had packed all his belongings (not that he had many), strapped his guitar across his back (his acoustic that is, his electric one he had left behind at the Cavern last night. He hoped George had taken it home) and headed for the bus. He had made his decision. He wanted to be with Paul every night and day from now on. He had dragged all his stuff to Paul’s apartment and waited at the front door till the boy came home. 

It was a typical Liverpudlian Sunday: depressing, grey and drizzly, but John wasn’t depressed at all. He closed his eyes as he remembered Paul’s beautiful hands caressing his naked body, the feeling of his soft, plumb lips on his, the long, elegant fingers wanking him off, the first amazing sexual experience with another man, with Paul, _his Paul_ (he had never come so hard in his life!) and, strangely enough, he mostly remembered sleeping in each other’s arms and waking up to see those gorgeous eyes. He was awoken from his daydream by that oh so familiar voice _“John?”_

John jumped up at the sound of Paul’s voice. “John, what are you doing here? And what’s all this?” Paul waved his hand in the direction of John’s belongings. “These are my things, clothes and stuff” John said and then announced with a grin “I’m moving in with you!” He saw Paul’s eyes widen in surprise. 

“Moving in with me?” He asked astonished “Do…...eh…...do I get a say in this?” John laughed out loud “Of course Macca, of course you get a say in it, you get to say YES! Now open the door before everything get’s soaking wet, I’ve been sitting in this drizzle for way too long already.” Paul looked at him in utter bewilderment for a few seconds, then shook his head, chuckling “You’re really something else John Lennon.” John grabbed his things and followed Paul inside “I most certainly am, baby, I most certainly am.”

***

Paul hardly had time to close the door before John pressed him against the wall and started kissing him, his hands feverishly trying to unbutton his coat and then his shirt. Paul didn’t struggle, on the contrary, he loved it! His lips were glued to John’s as he tried to get John’s shirt off. Leaving behind a trace of clothes on the ground they managed to reach the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Their lovemaking was quick and heated, mouths and hands everywhere, cocks rubbing together in search of an orgasm. When it came, Paul cried out John’s name in pleasure, while John let out a deep groan, muttering Paul’s name over and over again. 

Lying on the bed next to each other, naked and sweaty, Paul turned his head to look at John, who was staring at the ceiling. “So you decided to move in with me, then?” He saw John smile “Yeah, I decided I couldn’t live without you. Spend too much time without you and I’m never gonna let you go again.” “What did Stu have to say about it then?” Paul asked carefully. “Didn’t see him, and anyway what does it matter what he thinks about it? If I want to move out of Gambier Terrace and move in with you, than that’s none of his business, is it?” Paul frowned “But he’s your best friend, isn’t he?” 

John turned his head to face him “My best friend? Stu? Well, he’s my friend, but not my best friend. You are my best friend, always have been.” Paul’s frown grew deeper “Are you sure? I mean, there were times I thought you liked him a lot more than me. You didn’t want to spend time with me once you started Art College and met Stu.” 

John reached out his hand and caressed his cheek. “It wasn’t like I didn’t want to spend time with you. I just found it to be so difficult to be around you and not being able to act upon my feelings for you. It really hurt to see you and not being allowed to touch or kiss you. So I started to push you away a bit, to protect myself, you know.”

Paul nodded. “I felt the same way. I really wanted to spend time with you, and was very happy when we were together, but I was so afraid you would find out about my feelings for you and that you would ridicule me, call me names or even end our friendship. So you really consider me to be your best friend, then?” 

They were both lying on their sides now, facing each other. John pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. “Best friend and lover.” Paul smiled in John’s eyes. _"Lovers,_ that’s what we are now, aren’t we, Johnny? But how are you gonna explain to Stu and the others you’re moving in with me all of a sudden. They don’t even know we’ve met up again.” 

John chuckled “I’ll just tell everybody that I’ve had enough of the way the bathroom always reeks.” Paul exploded with laughter “Only you can come up with an explanation like that! Well I guess that explanation is as good as any.” They were both silent for a couple of seconds. “But we have to be careful Johnny. Nobody can find out about us being together, I don’t want to end up in jail.” 

John lowered his eyes and sighed. “I don’t understand that, you know. We’re not doing anything wrong, we’re not harming anybody. How can love be a crime?”

Paul reached out his hand to stroke John’s hair tenderly. “Love isn’t a crime Johnny. It’s just that some people consider it a crime when two people of the same sex love each other, but it isn’t really. It just too bad that those who consider it a crime are in charge and have made it illegal. But I don’t think love can ever be a crime as long as both partners want it.” Paul’s hand caressed his cheek and John moved his head a little to kiss the palm of his hand. 

“And do you want it, Paul?” he asked the beautiful boy softly. Paul’s eyes seemed to glow in the dim lit room. “Yes, I do, Johnny, very much.” John’s hand found his way to Paul’s silky hair and as he ran his fingers through it, he felt his like his heart was expanding with affection. “So do I, baby, so do I, more than I can ever tell you.” Paul smiled. “Then I think we can find our way somehow.”

But suddenly Paul looked at him with a frown again. “There’s just one thing John. What are we going to do about our sleeping arrangements?”

***

It turned out that Paul was worried about people (especially his dad) coming over to visit and seeing only one single bed for the two of them. So John reassured him he would go over to Gambier Terrace to collect his mattress. “We can put it under your bed and tell everybody we pull it out at night so I can sleep on it. But I’m not planning on using it!” 

Of course Paul overslept Monday morning, and John convinced him not to go to college at all. “You didn’t do your homework anyway, so you might just as well stay at home today.” Paul had given in, sighing. “If dad knew, he’d be telling me off. He’d say you’re a terrible influence on me. Which of course you are. But I really have to go to the library in the afternoon, John. I can’t afford to lose my job there, I need the money to pay the rent.” 

They had a quick breakfast with cornflakes and a cup of tea and made love again. Unlike the night before, when they had quick hot, passionate sex, their lovemaking this morning was slow and tender. They were taking their time to explore each other bodies, finding out what the other one liked, discovering their sensitive spots. 

Their hands and lips touching each other’s skin, fingers running through hair, chests pressed together, legs entwined. Rubbing their cocks together, slowly at first, savouring every moment, then faster, ever faster. Moans, groans, whispers and cries filled the apartment, and when they both reached their climax, almost simultaneously, they both felt in heaven. 

They had a rather late lunch with some scrambled eggs (without toast, because they hadn’t managed to buy any bread), had a shower that took quite a bit longer than they had planned, since they were showering together and couldn’t keep their hands of each other, and Paul left for the library at three o’clock, having to start his shift at three thirty and the library not being too far away from his apartment. John would collect his mattress and go to the shops afterwards to buy some groceries.

John returned home with his mattress, not having encountered Stu or any of the others (probably all at college, the sense of duty those bastards had!), stored it away underneath Paul’s bed and went to the grocery store, opting for bread, milk, cornflakes, tea and eggs for lunch and breakfast, and sausages, potatoes and peas for dinner. 

After putting the groceries in the cupboard and fridge, he decided to stow away his clothes in Paul’s bedroom closet. It took some rearranging of Paul’s clothes, but he managed to fit everything in. He decided to sit on the couch playing his guitar for a while until Paul returned home. He felt completely at ease. This is what he wanted: a life with Paul. Maybe he should make that gorgeous young man dinner tonight.

***

Paul liked working at the library. He liked being surrounded by books, his co-workers were nice, and he liked the interaction with the clients, especially with kids. His boss had noticed how good Paul was with children and had assigned the children’s book department to him. “You’re very cheerful today, Paul” his boss noticed. “Yeah, I eh…...I had a great weekend” Paul admitted. “Ah, she must have been a very pretty girl then?’ his boss replied. “Yeah, I suppose so” Paul felt himself blush. John was very handsome indeed, but certainly not a girl! “Well, time to start the new week, Paul, the books are waiting for you!”

Paul walked home, humming a merry tune again. He’d been reading a story for a couple of children at the library and both the kids as well as himself had enjoyed it. Now he was coming home, not to an empty apartment, but to John! He couldn’t believe his luck. Things were really looking up for him.

As he unlocked the front door, the smell of sausages frying entered his nostrils. Was John cooking? He entered the living room with its small open-plan kitchen and saw John standing at the stove, sausages in the frying pan, potatoes boiling. John was humming a tune and, standing with his back towards the door, obviously hadn’t heard Paul come in. 

Paul silently sneaked up to John, and wrapping his arms around his waist from behind, whispered in his ear “Now that’s a way to come home, my pretty housewife making dinner for me.” John turned around in Paul’s arms. _“Pretty housewife?_ You’d better take that back, son, or I will never make you dinner again! Pretty housewife, my arse! You’re the one with the feminine features!” 

Paul looked offended “That’s not funny John, you know how much I hate it when people say that.” He turned around, pouting, to hang his coat in the hallway. John followed him and now it was his turn to wrap his arms around Paul from behind. “Just joking, baby, just joking. But you are a lot prettier than I am, I’d make a very ugly housewife. So if we’d put you in a dress……” The sound of the potatoes boiling over, made John rush back to the kitchen, thus escaping Paul’s shoe being thrown at him.

***

They had eaten their dinner, talking about their afternoons, and Paul had complimented him at his cooking skills, which made John strangely proud. Compliments about his looks, his song writing or guitar playing, yes, those always made him proud, but his _cooking skills?_ Damn, being with Paul for two days had already turned his brain into mush! 

He looked at Paul with a lovesick expression on his face, watching those elegant hands dancing as he talked. God, the boy was beautiful! And he looked even better without his clothes on. He could almost feel the naked skin under his fingers. 

“John, are you even listening to me?” John was shaken out of his reverie by Paul’s question. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Paul shook his head. “I don’t think you’ve heard a word I’ve just said, did you? Where’s your mind at anyway?” John chuckled “Wouldn’t you’d like to know, Macca! Just imagining you all naked and such.” Paul blushed. _“John! Please!_ I just asked you if you saw Stu when you picked up your mattress.” John shook his head. “No, nobody home. So how about us moving to the bedroom then.”

***

Paul did manage to go to college the next day, and returned home after his work at the library to the smell of bacon. John had made scrambled eggs and bacon and had tossed a salad on the side. Paul chuckled inside. He could really get used to this! And he most certainly could get used to their lovemaking every night, full of passion, but also full of tenderness and, fuck, it was so satisfying! 

After dinner they took out their guitars and suddenly they were just two friends again, musical mates bending over their instruments, choosing chords and words, composing a song eyeball to eyeball. God how he had missed that! 

On Wednesday they had made love on the couch straight after Paul had come home, and they were sitting in their bathrobes, relaxing in the afterglow of their orgasms, when the doorbell rang. “Let it ring, Paul, probably just somebody who wants to sell something.” But suddenly Paul sat up, startled. “What day is it? It’s Wednesday isn’t it? Oh shit, I’ve completely forgotten! Fuck, John, you better go to the bedroom! Quick, quick!” He stood up, pulled John off the couch and pushed him towards the bedroom. 

He pushed the button to unlock the door downstairs, and went to open his front door, wrapping his bathrobe around his naked body a bit tighter. He greeted the two men coming up the stairs, feeling himself blush. What must they think, finding him in his bathrobe this time of day? “Hello Dusty, hello Steve! Sorry about my bathrobe, but I’ve just taken a shower. Somebody bumped in to me on my way back home and spilt ice cream all over my clothes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Dusy and Steve find out about John living with Paul? You'll find out in the next chapter!


	22. REJOINING THE BAND

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Steve and Dusty pay Paul a visit. And John hires a new bandmember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

After two weeks at Dusty and Steve’s house, following his suicide attempt, Paul had returned to his apartment. Dusty had tried in vain to make Paul talk to his dad, but Paul absolutely denied that. He didn’t want his dad to worry about him and most certainly couldn’t tell him the reasons for his suicide attempt. Dad would surely hate him forever if he found out his eldest son was homosexual. Besides, being confused about his sexuality and hurt because he had lost John weren’t the only reasons he had tried to take his own life. The deep, dark secret of being sexually abused by Mr. Maxwell probably being the major reason. And that was something he couldn’t and wouldn’t tell anybody ever.

Dusty and Steve had been reluctant to let him go home alone, but after promising to come by every Friday night for dinner and allow them to come by his apartment every Wednesday evening, they had let him go home. They would bring him something to eat on Wednesday, so together with Sunday roast at his dad’s, he would at least have three decent meals a week. And of course they could keep an eye on him to check if he was okay. 

Paul didn’t really mind the arrangement, Steve was a good cook and he liked talking to Dusty. And being around two men who were homosexual themselves, made him feel at ease. He was grateful for their company and concern.

And now they were standing in the small hallway, Steve holding a deliciously smelling steak and kidney pie, and he had told them the most stupid lie you could imagine. Bumping into someone holding an ice cream, while it was freezing outside! He felt rather guilty. 

They entered the living room and Steve placed the pie on the kitchen counter. Dusty proceeded to sit on the couch, only to find a pair of boxers on top of it and another pair on the ground along with some other clothes, obviously belonging to two different men. He looked at Paul, surprise written all over his face, and Paul blushed deeply. Dusty exchanged a look with Steve. “Are we interrupting something, Paul?”

***

From behind the bedroom door, John could hear voices. Two men had entered the living room. One of the voices sounded slightly familiar, but he couldn’t really place it. He carefully opened the door a crack and peeped into the living room. He really didn’t expect to see his old English teacher there.

“Well, I’ll be damned, Mr. Durband! What on earth are you doing here?” John cried out. The man looked at John, standing in the doorway of the bedroom, wearing only his bathrobe, in total shock. “John Lennon? What are you doing here?” John stepped into the living room. “Well, I live here, of course.” The other man, standing at the kitchen counter, replied “You are? When did that happen? You weren’t living here last week when we came by.” 

Paul started laughing nervously. “No he wasn’t. He.……he only just moved in last Sunday. John, you remember Dus…...Mr. Durband from school I suppose?” “Well John, this certainly is a surprise! It is good to see you” Dusty said as he shook John’s hand. “And this is Mr. Taylor, his…...his friend. Steve, this is John Lennon.” The man reached out his hand and John shook it. “So you are John Lennon? I’ve heard a lot about you. You can call me Steve.” John saw him exchange a quick look with Mr. Durband before the man led him to the kitchen counter explaining him how best to reheat the pie.

***

Dusty had stood up from the couch and approached Paul, whispering in his ear “Paul? Is this what I think it is?” Paul blushed again, nervously chewing his bottom lip. “Eh, yeah, I suppose it is.” Dusty smiled at the young man “You didn’t tell me you met him again.” Paul’s eyes sparkled “No, we only met last Saturday.” “And he moved in with you on Sunday? Well that must have been some reunion then!” Paul chuckled “Yeah, you could say that again!” 

And then he whispered “Oh Dusty, I can hardly believe it, but he actually feels the same about me as I do about him, like you told me! He loves me, he really does! He really wants me!” Dusty smiled broadly and hugged him tightly, whispering in his ear “I’m so happy for you Paul, I’m so happy for you.”

Dusty let go of Paul and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up “Spilled ice cream eh? You really should work on your lies, young man!" Steve turned around “You should have let us know you have a roommate, Paul, I would have made two pies. Do you have anything to go with it? So you won’t get hungry?” Paul smiled at Steve “I think we have some eggs, tomatoes and cheese, so we can make an omelette or something to go with it, don’t worry Steve.” 

He saw Dusty wink at Steve and nod his head in the direction of the door. “Maybe we’d better go home, so the boys can eat their dinner, and Eddie needs a walk anyway, so eh….…will we be seeing you on Friday, Paul?” Paul saw John’s eyebrows going up in amazement. “Eh, well, I…….I don’t know yet, I will let you know, Dusty. And thanks for the pie, Steve, it smells delicious as always.” He saw the two men out, and turned to John, laughing sheepishly. “Those were Dusty and Steve. I eh…...I kind of forgot they were coming.” John looked at him puzzled, _“Why on earth_ is our old English teacher visiting you?”

***

To say John had been a bit surprised to see Alan Durband at Paul’s apartment would be an understatement. He was totally and utterly bewildered. Why would someone socialize with his old school teacher? That was ridiculous, wasn’t it? “Paul?” He saw Paul blush again and he seemed to search for an answer. John knew straight away he wasn’t going to get an honest answer. He wondered what was going on there. 

“I kind of bumped in to Dusty some months ago, and, well, he kind of invited me to his house, where I met Steve, who is his roommate and is a good cook, which I am not, and I kind of told them I liked the food, and they asked me to come by once a week for a good meal, and they kind of started to come around to bring me a meal on Wednesdays and eh…...” Paul bit his bottom lip nervously.

“That’s kind of a lot “kind ofs” Macca! So what’s really going on?” Paul looked annoyed “What do you mean, John? Why do you think there’s more to it?” John chuckled “You’re a terrible liar, Paul, your eyes give you away and you start chewing you bottom lip. That and the amount of “kind ofs”. So spit it out, son, what’s the big secret then?” 

Suddenly he saw a shadow cross Paul’s face, he averted his eyes and muttered inarticulately “There’s nothing more to it, no big secret. It’s just…...I just bumped in to Dusty and I was feeling kind of lonely, and well…...I just needed some company, alright? You’ve got a problem with that?” 

Paul turned around and went over to the kitchen “So let’s eat, Steve’s pies are to die for.” John watched Paul with a worried feeling. Something was not right there, he could feel it in his bones. But he could sense Paul wasn’t ready to discuss it now. Never mind, he would find out if there was something fishy going on. Right now however, he was distracted by Paul’s endlessly long, naked, hairy legs, peeping from underneath the dressing gown. God, were they sexy!

John didn’t raise the subject of Paul’s friendship with Dusty and Steve again, but it was never really out of his mind. What was it with to adult men being roommates? Wasn’t that a bit strange? And why would they hang out with a much younger boy? Why would Paul hang out with them? They could hardly have anything in common, could they? Although Dusty _was_ an English teacher, and Paul _was_ studying to become one too. Maybe that was the connection? Well maybe he would find out on Friday, since they were going to visit the two older men and have dinner with them. He was going to get to the bottom of this!

***

When Paul arrived home after his library job, John was all excited. He was welcomed by a fierce kiss on his mouth, arms around his waist hugging him close, and hands squeezing (yes they were actually squeezing!) his arse. “Just eggs on toast tonight, baby, we’ve got to hurry!” Paul raised his eyebrows “We’re in a hurry? Where are we going then?” John looked at him with an ear-to-ear grin. “To Pete’s. Band practice of course! We start at eight.” 

Paul’s eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead “Band practice? What band practice?” “Our band of course, you silly git, The Beatles! I suppose you are a bit out of practice when it comes to playing with the guys, but I’m sure you’ll catch up in no time. You were always annoyingly capable and fast when it came to learn new songs and all that. I’m convinced that after one band practice you’ll be ready for our gig at The Cavern Saturday night.” 

Paul’s mouth fell open and he stared at John, feeling completely bewildered. “Practice? Gig? Cavern? Beatles?” “Well, that’s a pretty good summary of what I just told you, Macca! So, hop, hop, off to the bedroom, change your clothes into something more suitable for playing in a band, preferably some tight jeans that show off your perfect arse, and I’ll go scramble the eggs.” 

Paul didn’t move, he just kept staring at John “You…...you want me to rejoin the band? Just like that? Do…...do the others know? What will they say? I……..I can’t just come back like nothing has happened, can I?” 

Paul felt his stomach do somersaults. To be back in the band! Playing before an audience again! God, how he wanted that, how much he had missed that! But to just walk into Pete’s and resume his duties in the band after so many months of absence? He would like to see George again though, he really missed his former school friend and George might even be happy to see him. And what about Pete? Well he doubted if Pete could even be bothered, they never really had very much of a connection anyway. 

But Stu? Stu wouldn’t be too keen to have him back in the band. They never really liked each other, just tolerated each other. Both always looking for John’s attention. And for a while Stu had had the upper hand. Paul hated to think back to that period. It had hurt him a lot when John suddenly didn’t want to spend time with him. He had been so jealous! But things were different now, weren’t they? He didn’t only have John’s friendship back, they were lovers as well! 

He changed into his tightest blue jeans and a black t-shirt, and after finishing his eggs and toast, he picked up his guitar, strapped it around his back and followed John, making their way through Liverpool.

***

The other guys were already there when he arrived at Pete’s with Paul in tow. “Evening guys! Look who I brought along!” he said with a flourish of his arm towards Paul. “Mac is back! Things are looking up for us from now on! 

“Paul? You’re back? Wow, that’s just…...that’s just _great!_ Good to see you again, mate, you look fabulous!” George greeted him with a warm hug. “Well that’s a surprise. Didn’t know you two were back on track. Bit weird isn’t it, though, coming back after such a long time. But, okay, welcome back” Pete responded a bit half-heartedly. 

_“What?_ You’ve gotta be joking, John! You can’t let him -he waved his hand in Paul’s direction- join the band again! First you throw him out of the band, with good reason, letting us down like that by not coming to Hamburg with the rest of us, and now you take him back? Just like that? No, no, no, John, that’s not gonna happen, over my dead body!” Stu furiously shouted at John. 

John looked at Stu, his eyes as cold as ice. “Over your dead body? That can be arranged, you know! Look Stu, this is _my_ band, and _I_ call the shots, and if you don’t like it, well……nobody forces you to stay.” Stu walked over to him and stood right in front of him, his eyes black and full of anger “So he can just come back without any of us having a say in this?” 

“That’s right, Stu. It’s _my_ band and _I_ am the one who makes the decisions here. And I decided to have Paul back, since that’s what’s best for The Beatles. We’ve been going _nowhere_ without him, haven’t made any progression, and our audience is declining. We _need_ Paul, if not for his musical abilities, then most certainly for his ability to pull birds!” 

Paul coughed at that last remark. “Hey, that’s not what I’m good for!” John turned to him with a grin “Oh yes you are, Macca, a real chick-magnet, you are!” He winked at the young man. “But seriously, we need you to keep us all in time, we need your fabulous harmonies and your out-of-this-world screaming voice and you’re the only one who can deliver a real good ballad. And I need you to write songs with me. So you’re in the band, Macca, whether _you_ like it or not” he turned to Stu as he spit out those last words. 

George and Pete had grown completely silent at his tirade and Paul was biting his bottom lip nervously, as Stu stared at him furiously. Then John turned to Paul “Come on, mate, let’s get this practice started!” He started tuning his guitar, looking completely calm on the outside, but burning with anger on the inside. Fucking Stu! The man could hardly play the bass properly, yet he thought he had a say in the band’s goings? 

“Let’s do “Long Tall Sally”. Haven’t done that one in ages, Macca. None of us can do that song the way you do.” Paul plugged his guitar in, looked around to see if they were all ready to go and counted in, bursting into the song with verve. John watched him giving it all, heard the voice screaming at the top of his lungs, and felt a tingling feeling in his groin. At the end of the song, he was glad he had his guitar strapped on, so he could hide his erection behind the instrument.

***

It was just as Paul had expected. Stu definitely did not want him back in the band. John however, had put his foot down, and they had started practicing with Stu looking angry and moody, and not even trying to play the right chords. It annoyed Paul endlessly, it always had. Stu just couldn’t play! And he refused to learn even some simple chords. Paul had never understood why John had let him in the band in the first place, and certainly not why he continued to keep him in the band. Other than the fact that they needed a bass player. But they could find somebody else to fill that spot, couldn’t they? Somebody who could actually manage that instrument? 

After he belted out “Long Tall Sally”, with words of praise from both George and Pete (not from Stu of course) at the sheer energy Paul had put in the song’s delivery, John suggested trying their hands on “Words of Love”, the song that always gave him butterflies when he and John sang together in their perfect harmony. Singing together with John like this, felt like they had never been apart for so long, like they had only played it yesterday. It sounded absolutely perfect! 

“Wow” George said after they finished the song “That was awesome! I’d almost forgotten how well your voices blend together. The birds will absolutely go wild when you sing this together! Promise to leave some for me then!” Paul laughed at George’s words “Ah George, still taking left over birds then? But rest assured, I will leave some for you!” It felt good joking around with George again, after all, they had been friends for so long! 

“John, remember that song we wrote together, not long after we met, “In spite of all the danger”? Wouldn’t that be something to put on the set list? It’s always good to have an original song that no other band has.” John’s eyes met his “Yeah, that’s a good one. I liked the lyrics a lot.” Paul nodded “And it’s got a pretty little melody. You could sing the lead, I can do the harmony where needed, and George and I can do the backing vocals. And maybe George can figure out a nice guitar solo in the middle. What do you think?” 

He raised questioning eyes at both John and George. “I don’t think I remember that song” George responded hesitatingly. “Never mind Geo, John and I do, we will sing it for you guys and we can all work together on the arrangement, alright?” He turned to John “Right, John?” John gave him a slight nod. Paul counted in and together with John he started singing “In spite of all the danger, in spite of all that may be…...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter John and Paul will pay Dusty and Steve a visit.


	23. A REVELATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> When John and Paul pay Dusty and Steve a visit, Steve makes a revelation to John. And Paul is nervous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul rang the doorbell. “Nice place Dusty’s got here. You wouldn’t think a teacher’s job could pay for such a posh house.” Paul laughed “Well that offers perspective, doesn’t it? With me becoming a teacher, that is. In a few years time I might be able to afford a semi-detached house as well! But seriously, John, they do have two salaries, with Steve working as well.” Paul had decided to go to Dusty and Steve as usual on Friday night, the only difference being that he stood in front of their door with John by his side this time. 

“What does he do for a living anyway?” John asked him. “He’s a graphic designer. Works at home..…. oh, hi Steve!” Paul greeted the man opening the door. “Hello Paul, hello John, come in, I’m just finishing the pasta, so walk straight ahead, you know the way, Paul, Dusty’s setting the table.” 

Paul walked in to the dining room, greeting Dusty. “Hello son, good to see you, hello John. I believe dinner is almost ready, so just take a seat. I believe it’s spaghetti Bolognese with a Caprese Salad on the side” John raised his eyebrows “I know what spaghetti Bolognese is, but what’s a Caprese salad when it’s at home?” he whispered in Paul’s ear. “Oh that’s Italian as well, it’s tomatoes, mozzarella cheese and basil leafs with olive oil. It’s very good, Steve has made it before, I’m sure you’ll like it” Paul whispered back. 

“Mozarella cheese? Never heard of it.” They sat down on the table next to each other and John’s hand came to rest on Paul’s thigh. Steve walked in with the delicious smelling food and John looked at the salad. “So that’s mozzarella cheese? Could do with some sunshine, looks rather white, doesn’t it?” he stated, causing the three other men to chuckle.

***

After finishing their dinner, during which John had repeatedly praised Steve’s cooking skills (“You should learn to cook like that, Paul” “Why me, John? You’re the one who does most of the cooking, since I go to work!”), John had offered Steve to help him do the dishes and the two of them disappeared into the kitchen.

“So, tell me all about it, Paul” Dusty asked him eagerly. “I don’t really know where to start! I went to the Cavern Club last Saturday, you know, because you’d urged me to go out some more? And suddenly this band comes on the stage and it’s _John’s band!_ They’ve changed their name, so I hadn’t realized it was them. I was terrified seeing John there and I almost walked out. But then John noticed me and something made me stay put and sit out their performance.” 

“When they had finished I left the club, but John came after me and……well, we talked and argued and talked some more, and suddenly we were in front of my apartment and he asked if he could come in for a drink. And I.…..I just said he could, and……and we went in, and……well, suddenly he was kissing me! _Kissing me!_ I almost died of a heart attack! John was kissing me!”

“And then one thing led to another and we……well, we kind of ended up in bed. Together. We ended up in bed _together!_ Can you believe it? And you know what Dusty? It was so amazing! It felt better than I had ever dreamt of! And you know something else? He told me he loved me! He had been in love with me since the day we met. I can’t believe we wasted so much time together, just because we didn’t dare to admit we loved each other. And the next day he moved in with me.” 

Paul couldn’t stop talking about everything that had happened in the last few days. He was so happy! He told Dusty how he had joined John’s band again, how he had loved playing with George again (Remember him? George Harrison? Skinny kid with big teeth and a thick Scouse accent?) and that he would play his first gig since many, many months tomorrow night at the Cavern. 

“Maybe you guys should come and watch us play! But then again, it might not be exactly your cup of tea…..” Dusty had listened to Paul rambling on and smiled. “It’s so good to see you so happy, Paul, you’re absolutely radiating! I told you everything would work out somehow, I’m so happy for you, son!”

***

Steve’s job really interested John. Graphic design. After all, he _did_ go to Art College. Not that he had finished it…...It wasn’t due to a lack of interest though, studying just wasn’t for him. As he merrily dried the plates (was he really merrily doing that? What on earth was happening to him?), he asked Steve all about his job.

“So how did you and Dusty meet? Have you been friends for long?” John suddenly asked. Steve looked at him from the corner of his eyes. “How do you meet someone? Just bumped in to each other at a pub and started talking. I guess. We hit it of straight away.” John nodded “Yeah that happens sometimes, doesn’t it, hitting it off with somebody straight away. Happened with me and Paul as well.”

Steve stopped washing the dishes and turned to John. “What are your intentions with Paul, John?” John raised his eyebrows “My intentions with Paul? What do you mean by that?” Steve sighed “Dusty and I are no fools, John. We know how Paul feels about you. But how do you feel about him? Are you serious about your relationship with him?” John was irritated. “I beg your pardon? What relationship? We’re good friends, that’s all.” 

Steve shook his head “John, we both know the two of you are not “just friends”. And don’t worry, your secret is safe with us. Dusty and me, we are in a homosexual relationship as well. It’s not something you have to be ashamed of, certainly not in front of us.” John looked at the older man “Are you calling me queer?” “Well, aren’t you then?” 

John averted his eyes “Is it that obvious?” Steve nodded “It is to us, and like I said, there’s nothing wrong with it, but I would like to know if you really care about him and plan to stay with him, or if you see him as just another fuck. Because if that’s the case I want you to end your relationship with him right now, before he gets in too deep. He’s way too vulnerable to be going through the pain of a broken heart again.”

“So who are you to tell me what to do? What does it matter to you anyway, whether I care for him or not? And what do you mean “he’s too vulnerable”, he’s not a bird you know.” John was really annoyed. The man hardly knew him, yet asked him such impertinent questions! And the fact the guy obviously knew about his affair with Paul worried him. Could everybody see they were together?

“One night, about two months ago, Dusty walked Eddie, our little doggie. It was dark outside and as he reached the docks, he saw a dark shadow that was about to throw himself into the cold water. Dusty approached the figure, trying to stop him from jumping, and as the man turned around, he recognized him. It was Paul.” John, not knowing where this story was leading to, had listened to Steve impatiently at first, but now his eyes widened in horror. 

“Paul? You mean……..no, that can’t be! You mean……Paul tried…….tried to commit……..suicide? _Paul?”_ Steve nodded. “Yes, John, he did. Dusty managed to prevent that. He wanted to take Paul home to his dad, but Paul told him he wasn’t living there anymore, that he had his own apartment. Well Paul was in no state to be on his own at that moment, obviously, so Dusty took him home with him.”

Steve sighed “The poor boy was such a mess when he arrived. Such a beautiful boy, but so confused and upset. And way too skinny, like he hadn’t eaten very well lately. He stayed with us for two weeks. We tried to get him to tell us why he wanted to end his own life, and eventually he did. He was confused about his sexuality, he had realized he was homosexual and didn’t know what to do. And on top of that, his heart had been broken by a man who didn’t return his feelings and had pushed him away, out of his life. _You_ broke his heart, John.” 

John groaned “I didn’t know that! I didn’t know he loved me! If only I had known! God, I fell in love with him the moment I first laid eyes on him, but I always thought he didn’t feel the same about me! He tried to kill himself, oh my God!” He felt tears well up in his eyes. He had almost lost Paul before they even got together 

“We tried to convince him to tell his dad and go back to living with him, but he absolutely refused that. He wanted to go back to his own apartment and forbid us to notify his dad about his suicide attempt.”

“We realized we had to keep an eye on him to make sure he wouldn’t try again, so that’s when we started coming around on Wednesdays and he would visit us on Fridays. Just so we could check on him. And we could provide him with a good meal. Together with the Sunday roast at his dad’s, he would at least have three decent meals a week, because he wasn’t really taking good care of himself. So now you know the whole story, I will ask you again: what are your intentions with Paul?” 

***

When they returned home after dinner at Dusty and Steve’s, John seemed subdued to Paul. As a matter of fact he had seemed to be in a completely different mood when he had returned from washing the dishes with Steve. He seemed..…..sad? Paul wondered what was going on. Did something happen between John and Steve?

Their love-making that night had been intense. John had showered him with kisses and had told him a zillion times how much he loved him. Not that Paul minded though. He liked being told he was loved and he loved John’s soft touches and caresses. But something had changed in the way John treated him. He was so immensely tender and considerate.

Paul had been so excited to tell Dusty about him and John. Bit embarrassing telling his old teacher he had slept with John, but he hadn’t been able to keep the news to himself. After all, there weren’t exactly a lot of people he could tell about John, were there? He couldn’t just shout out from the top of the world that they were lovers. He wished he could, because he was so happy about it. Well at least he had Dusty and Steve to share his feelings with. They wouldn’t judge him.

He had eaten a bowl of cornflakes and drank a cup of tea, already fully dressed, since he worked at the library on Saturday morning. He returned to the bedroom where John was still vast asleep. He looked at John’s face, which looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. Somehow John managed to look like an angel when he was asleep. Such a contrast from the tough Teddy Boy he appeared to be when he was awake. He smiled softly at the sight of his sleeping lover. “Johnny? Johnny, I’m off to work. Johnny, do you hear me? I have to work ‘till one today, so I’ll be back around one thirty. Johnny?”

He saw John opening one eye, then another one and he tried to focus on Paul, groaning “Off to work? To the library? Can’t you stay home? Please come back to bed.” Paul laughed “I can’t, you sleepy head, staying in bed won’t pay the rent, you know.“ He softly kissed John’s forehead “Love you, John.” John pressed a tender kiss on his lips “Love you too, Paul, don’t ever doubt that, baby.” 

***

John was feeling lost. Paul had left for work and he was alone at the apartment. He had showered and dressed himself, had eaten some cornflakes and now he was sitting on the couch with a large mug of steaming tea. The apartment was silent and John’s thought went back to yesterday evening.

He had been horrified by Steve’s revelation of Paul’s suicide attempt. Paul. The boy that always seemed so stable, so strong, so self assured. The boy who had comforted him when Julia had died, who had been so strong for him when John had needed him, even though he was younger than him.  
That Paul had not been able to cope with his feelings and had tried to end his life. His beautiful Paul.

Steve had asked him what his intentions with Paul were. The man wanted to protect Paul from him. After all, him kicking Paul out of the band and his life, had probably been the catalyst in Paul’s suicide attempt. What were his intentions with Paul? He wanted to be with Paul forever, he wanted him emotionally, musically, mentally, physically, sexually. He wanted all of Paul, till the end of times. He wanted to make him happy, make him laugh, hear him giggle, see the sparkle in his gorgeous eyes when he smiled. 

He also wanted to write songs with him, make it big with him and the band, to go to the toppermost of the poppermost! He wanted him and only him, and never leave him again. That’s what his intentions were. And so that’s what he had told Steve. And Steve had nodded and told him he’d better make Paul happy or otherwise he and Dusty would come after him!

But John felt so sad and scared. Sad, because he had not seen the turmoil Paul had been in. Sad because he hadn’t been there to help Paul. Sad because he realized how sad and lonely Paul must have been. And he was scared. Would Paul try again? Would he be able to keep him from doing it again? Would he be able to protect Paul from harm? Would he be able to keep _himself_ from hurting Paul? He knew he didn’t want to hurt Paul, but he also knew himself. He knew he could hurt people with his biting remarks, specially the people he cared about the most. Hurt them before they hurt you. 

So he would have to watch his mouth. Would he be able to do that? Would he be able to keep himself in line when it came to Paul? Of course he could! He loved him! He had to make sure Paul would never be tempted to do something so drastically as taking his own life ever again. And he would do anything to achieve that. He promised himself that on his mother’s grave. 

And then there was another thing. Should he let Paul know he knew about the suicide attempt? Steve had asked him not to tell Paul he knew. “He’s very ashamed of it. We’re the only ones who know about it firsthand, but he really doesn’t want anybody else to know. He confided in us about the reasons behind his desire to end his life, and I’m really betraying his trust here, but I feel I had no other choice. But I’m afraid that when he finds out I’ve told you about what has happened, it might have a very negative effect on his state of mind. He’s vulnerable, John, he needs to be projected.”

Keeping secrets from each other didn’t seem like a good thing in a relationship. But sometimes you had to do what was best, even though it seemed wrong. So he would not tell Paul he knew. He hoped that Paul one day would trust him enough to confide in him. Until that day he could do nothing else but give him all the love he had. And that’s what he would do. 

***

Paul had been feeling nervous and jittery all morning and had not been able to hide it very well. One of his co-workers even asked him if something was wrong. Well, nothing was wrong. Not really, but…....tonight. Tonight would be the first gig he had played in so many months! He couldn’t help feeling nervous about it. Part of him really wanted to go on stage tonight, he loved performing in front of an audience, but he was a bit out of practice. And during band practice the other night, Stu had been totally annoying and obnoxious and his bass playing had been horrific. And Pete still couldn’t keep time.

Paul wanted the band to be perfect and he feared that they wouldn’t go anywhere as long as Stu and Pete were part of the band. But they needed a bass player and a drummer………He sighed deeply, causing his co-worker to chuckle “If you’re that nervous about performing, why do you do it then?” Paul raised his eyebrows “Because performing in front of an audience is the most fantastic experience ever of course!” How could someone ask such a stupid question!

And now he was on his way back home, back to John, who had been acting differently since last night. Not in a bad way, no, not at all, but still……..different. Maybe he was nervous about tonight as well? Could be. There was a lot at stake. If they’d do well tonight, it might bring them more gigs and better payment. And if they were paid better, then Paul might be able to quit his job at the library.

Not that he minded working there, not at all, he really enjoyed it sometimes, but he would have more time for his study and more time to write music. Because Paul realized very well that to stand out between all the other bands that wanted attention and gigs, they would have to be extra special. And with their own songs, and thus a different repertoire than all the covers the other bands also played, they would stand out. 

And he knew he could do that together with John, he could feel it in his bones. If they put their minds to it and poured their hearts into it, they could create magic together. And that was exactly what The Beatles needed. To hell with Pete and Stu. Together with George, he and John were going to make it big. They were going to the toppermost of the poppermost! But first things first. First he had to go through tonight’s performance.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter some family visits are paid.


	24. FAMILY VISITS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Time to pay the familes a visit. Or two.
> 
> I've posted the wrong chapter this morning. This is chapter 24. I've deleted the one I posted this morning, because that's chapter 25. So I will post that one again next Tuesday. Sorry!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John felt on cloud nine. Being on stage again with Paul beside him felt so damn good! The two of them shared glances while they were singing. The audience had being going wild when Paul had sung his “Long Tall Sally”, and when Paul and George did the call-and-answer vocals on his “Twist and Shout” it just sounded so much better then when it was just George doing that. They had sung “In Spite of all the Danger”, and John remembered the day they had written that song so clearly. Maybe that had been the day he had accepted the fact that he was in love with Paul. 

They had done “Be-bop-a-lula”, “Searchin’”, “Three Cool Cats” and Paul had rendered a beautiful version of “Till there was you”, that had all the girls dancing cheek-to-cheek with their boyfriends. John wished he could dance cheek-to-cheek. With Paul, that is. But that wasn’t bound to happen as long as homosexuality was considered a crime. After a few more up-tempo songs, they were now singing “Words of Love” on one mic together, sharing glances. 

When Paul had returned home earlier that day, after his library job, John had been so happy to see him, he’d nearly crushed him to dead. “Whoa, John, let me breathe” Paul had chuckled “It feels like you haven’t seen me in years! I’ve only been away a few hours, you know.” “I just miss you when you’re not here, baby.” And, John thought to himself, “I’m happy you’re still alive.” 

He didn’t realize he had worried so much about Paul topping himself. But the boy looked to be okay and seemed happy to see him to, judged by the half-erection he felt pressing against his thigh. “Well I can feel you’re happy to see me as well” he chuckled and as he saw a blush spread across Paul’s cheeks, he couldn’t help but thinking the boy looked adorable. 

Making love in the afternoon had been magical. Rubbing their cocks together till they both came, Paul first, John seconds after. Paul had been on top this time, which had been a first. Paul was getting a bit bolder in his actions and John loved it! 

They had eaten a light dinner (just some scrambled eggs really), strapped their guitars around their backs and found their way to The Cavern. And now they were singing “Words of Love” together, to each other.

It felt really emotional and John had to give himself a mental shake to retain himself from kissing Paul on the spot. Couldn’t do that now, could he? They finished their performance with “Some Other Guy”, and headed to the bar for a couple of wonderful tasting, cool beers. Life was good.

***

Next day was Sunday, and Sunday came with a problem: Paul was supposed to go to his dad’s. Of course that wasn’t the real problem, he loved visiting his dad and joking around with Mike. The real problem of course was John. ”You either take me with you to your dad’s or you don’t go at all, Paul. I’m not going to spend Sunday afternoon and evening all alone!” 

Since neither of the two options attracted Paul, he suggested John could visit his aunt Mimi. “How long has it been since you’ve seen her, John? I’m sure she would love to see you. You won’t be alone that way, and then we’ll see each other again tonight. How about that?”

He had managed to get John to agree, although reluctantly, and they had both gone their separate ways, but not after John had kissed him fiercely and palmed his cock through his jeans. “I want you naked on the bed when I come home” he had whispered in his ear huskily. “Oh really? And what about if I come home after you? Will you be lying on the bed naked, waiting for me?” he had whispered back. “Would you want me to, baby?” Paul had awarded John with one of his winning smiles: “Yes.”

He should have enjoyed his stay at his dad’s. Sure, the food was good. As always. A good traditional English Sunday Roast. The company was fine, Mike had told some funny stories and his dad had been warm and inviting. As always. But something was missing. Or rather: someone. John. He realized he missed John. How quickly had he become attached to him. It had only been a week since John had moved in with him and he already missed him dearly when they were apart! 

He hadn’t been very kind to John this morning, had he? John had wanted him to stay home, or at least take him along to his dad’s, so they wouldn’t have to spend the day apart. But he had kind of rebuffed the man, hadn’t he? Telling him to go visit his aunt. Why hadn’t he asked John to come with him? Well he knew why, didn’t he? He didn’t know how to explain John’s presence and was afraid his dad would find out about their relationship. But was it right to keep someone who was that important to him, out of his day-to-day life? So he decided to go for it.

“Dad, do you mind if I take someone along next Sunday?” His dad looked up from his plate in surprise. “Of course not son! I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. What’s her name?” Mike intervened “Yeah Paul, tell us all about it! What does she look like? Where did you meet her? I bet she’s got big tits!””Mike!””Mike!” His dad and himself called out at the same time, shocked by Mike’s words. “Sorry, sorry! But I’m just so excited. My big brother finally has a girlfriend! I thought it would never happen!” 

Paul blushed. Why did he always blush so easily? “I’m sorry if I gave the wrong impression, but I’m not taking a girl home. I’m taking John. John Lennon.” His dad raised his eyebrows _“John Lennon?_ I thought you haven’t been on speaking terms for, what......two years or something?” “It has been something like one year actually, but we met again the other day, and we kind of picked up where we left off. We rekindled our friendship.” 

“I’m back in the band again as well. Had my first gig with them at The Cavern yesterday as a matter of fact. They changed their name into The Beatles. Oh and John has moved in with me as well.” _“Moved in with you?!”_

***

“Mimi, I’m home!” John shouted as he walked in through the back door, entering the kitchen. The house felt cold and empty. Maybe his aunt wasn’t home? “Well, well, well, John Winston Lennon, how long has it been? Three months? You could have told me you were coming.” John chuckled “It’s good to see you too, Mimi. And yeah, it has been a while, but I’ve been busy, you know.” “Busy doing what, John? You don’t go to college anymore, you don’t have a job, all you’re interested in is playing that noisy guitar of yours all day. The guitar's all right John, but you'll never make a living out of it".

“I don’t know about that, Mimi. We performed at The Cavern last night and it was a great success, now we’ve got Paul back in the band. The club’s manager has asked us to perform more often, giving lunch gigs as well, and promised us a raise!” Mimi looked at him with a shocked expression on her face “Your little friend is back in your band? I thought I’d seen the last of him!” John never understood why Mimi didn’t like Paul. “Oh come on Mimi! Paul is a nice young man! He’s bright and always kind, very polite and well-mannered and he doesn’t have the thick Scouse accent like George does.” 

“Well, I like _him_ even less than that little Irish R.C. friend of yours from the council flats.” _“Paul,_ Mimi, his name is _Paul._ And by the way, he is studying at teacher-training college to become an English teacher and works at the library. Very respectable and responsible young man, you know,” 

“Hmm, well at least he’s done something for himself then. You should follow his example, John, instead of throwing your life away! I don’t understand why his father lets him play in that group of yours, though.” 

“It’s called a band, Mimi, and Paul is old enough to make his own decisions, he doesn’t need his father’s approval. He even rents his own apartment, which, by the way, I’ve moved in to.” _“You moved in with an Irish R.C.?_ Oh, dear God, I hope the women at the church don’t find out about that. The shame of it!” 

John sighed. He knew there was a reason for not visiting his aunt too often. _“Paul,_ Mimi, his name is _Paul._ So, you think I can get something to eat, or are you sending me home on an empty stomach?”

***

So next Sunday Paul arrived at Forthlin Road with John in tow. “Gosh, Macca, remember how I used to throw pebbles at your window to get your attention? Seems like a lifetime ago.” Paul looked up at his bedroom window. “Promise me you will behave yourself, John? It took me all of my persuasiveness to convince dad to let you come along today. He still feels indignant about you throwing me out of the band, you know.” 

John, standing next to him, placed his hand on the small of his back, and whispered in his ear “I promise you, my love, that I will not compromise you. I will only compromise myself.” Paul groaned “John, please?” John smiled at him “Don’t worry, Macca, I will be a true angel.” 

“Hey Paul. Hey John, long time no see!” Mike greeted them the door. “I’ve heard you moved in with our kid. Dad nearly got a heart attack when Paul told him so! He’s afraid you’re gonna corrupt him again, you know, skipping classes and such, like at the Inny.” 

John laughed out loud “Mikey, Mikey, Mikey, me corrupting your brother? Poor, little me? Why would I do such a thing? By the way, you have grown a lot since the last time I saw you. Soon you’ll be calling Paul your little brother!” 

“I’m already taller than him, although he refuses to admit it, don’t you Paulie?” Paul gave his brother a mock punch “Stop it, you little rascal! No matter how tall you grow, you will always be younger than me! So where’s dad?” Mike nodded in the direction of the kitchen “Preparing Sunday roast. We’re having mushy peas as well, yummie!” John’s eyes lit up “I’ve always loved old Jim’s mushy peas! There the best I’ve ever tasted!”

“Thanks for the compliment, but it’s still Mr. McCartney to you, young man.” Jim McCartney walked into the small living room. He stretched out his hand towards John. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Lennon.” John gave Jim a big smile “Good to see you too, sir. And yes, your mushy peas are truly the best I’ve ever tasted, you should give me the recipe!” Paul watched the little scene between his dad and John and sighed relieved. At least that went well. John turned to him with a look on his face that clearly stated “See, I can be nice and polite!”

***

The dinner at Forthlin had gone well. John had enjoyed old Jim’s traditional Sunday roast, the mushy peas were lovely and Jim had made a great Yorkshire pudding to go with the meat and potatoes. Lots of gravy too. And to finish it off, they had a lovely, sweet rice pudding. Better than last Sunday’s dinner at Mimi’s, but, to be fair, she hadn’t known he was coming, so he was lucky she had made him some sausage and mash. 

Jim had asked him about the band’s stay in Hamburg and what they had been doing upon their return to Liverpool (“I still don’t understand why you fired him just like that. Paul was always so dedicated to your band!” John had chosen not to react on that remark) and had asked about his aunt (John had wanted to say she was still a grumpy old lady that looked down on Jim’s eldest son, but he kept his answer to a polite “she’s doing very well, thank you”) and why he had moved in with Paul all of a sudden (John really, really wanted to say “so we can have sex every night” but he decided on a more diplomatic answer “he has his own bathroom! At Gambier Terrace there was only a communal bathroom. That and because it’s easier if we want to write songs”). 

He had joked around with Mike (the guy was really funny, especially when he was mocking Paul) and all in all the evening had been a very pleasant one and John was proud of himself because of his good behaviour. Paul’d better reward him for that when they came home!

After Paul had closed the door of their apartment, John pushed him against the wall, one hand on the boy’s hip, the other one on the back of Paul’s neck, while he fiercely kissed those luscious lips. “Man, you looked delicious tonight! I almost jumped your bones at the dinner table! But I’ve behaved myself, didn’t I? Wasn’t I a good boy tonight, Macca?” 

Paul had thrown his arms around John’s neck “Yeah, you’ve been a good boy” he whispered in between kisses. “So do I get my reward now?” John wiggled his eyebrows, looking in Paul’s eyes with a wicked expression, as he started to unbutton Paul’s shirt. 

“What reward? I don’t know anything about a reward. I don’t remember us agreeing on a reward if you behaved well enough” Paul chuckled. John tried to move Paul towards their bedroom, and pushed Paul in the right direction, but Paul stumbled and fell backwards to the floor, taking John with him, who landed on top of the stunning young man. “That eager to get things going then? Couldn’t wait for us to reach the bedroom to get me on top of you?”

“So what about that reward, then?” he said, cupping Paul’s cheeks and searching his eyes with longing. “What kind of reward did you have in mind then?” Paul asked, running his fingers through John’s auburn locks “Not that you need a reward, since good behaviour is only normal when in the company of others.” 

John wiggled his eyebrows again. ‘Well, I can think of a few things, but what really comes to mind, is your mouth.” “My mouth?” “Yes, your mouth…….on my cock” He rubbed his clothed hard-on against Paul’s groin, feeling his lover’s erection. “Come on, baby, don’t I deserve a hell of a blowjob after being such a perfect angel?” 

Paul suddenly completely stilled underneath him, his body all tense, his hands leaving John’s hair, falling back to the ground. And there it was again. Clearly showing in Paul’s eyes: fear. The fear John had seen before in those glorious eyes, although then he hadn’t been sure if he had seen it right. But there was no doubt about it now. Paul was scared.

***

Things had been going so well all night. And frankly he was looking forward to a good make-out session with John. But here he was now, lying on his back on the floor, with John on top of him, and all he felt was the overwhelming urge to push John off of him and run away. He felt his arousal die and couldn’t help but look at John in fear. 

Was John going to force him to take his cock in his mouth? Force him to give him a blowjob? Paul remembered all too well the feeling of hard, salty flesh in his mouth, banging fiercely in his throat, making him gag. The feeling of being suffocated, because he couldn’t breathe through his mouth and his nose was running because of the tears, making it almost impossible to breathe through his nose. The panic he had felt, thinking he would die. And then that horrible taste in his mouth, when he was made to swallow…….He didn’t want that! Not ever again! 

He tried to wriggle from underneath John, tried to get away, but John held him in place, searching his eyes with a worried look. “Paul? Paul what’s wrong? Paul, baby?” John held him in a fierce grip and Paul stopped wriggling. Maybe he should just let John do it. Let the man fuck his mouth and get it over with. He could struggle all he wanted, but John was stronger, just like Mr. Maxwell always was.

He felt tears well up in his eyes and quickly closed them, so John wouldn’t see the tears. But one escaped his left eye and found its way down the side of his face. “Just do it John, if you want it that much, just do it” he managed to whisper. And keeping his eyes closed, he opened his mouth, expecting to feel John’s hard-on entering it soon. 

He felt John’s body slip off of his. The man was probably unbuttoning his trousers and getting his cock ready to fuck his mouth. But nothing happened. Nothing at all. After a while Paul closed his mouth and carefully opened one eye, to see John sitting on the ground next to him. He looked pale and his eyes looked horrified. “Paul what do you think I’m going to do to you? Do you really think I would do something to you that you obviously don’t want? Paul! You can’t really believe that I would hurt you, that I would force you, that……… _Paul!”_

Paul lowered his eyes “But you want it, don’t you” he whispered. “Want what Paul? _Force_ you into a blowjob? Paul I _want_ you to give me a blowjob, of course I do, I even dream about it! But _not_ at your expense, love, _not_ without your consent, _not_ when you’re so clearly not ready to do so! How can you _possibly_ think I would do that to you? I love you for heaven’s sake!” Paul looked up to meet John’s eyes and he saw the distress there. “I’m sorry, John, I’m so sorry…….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter John and Paul's relationship grows deeper.


	25. IT'S GETTING BETTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Things slowly start to get better for John and Paul. Paul opens up a bit more to John, and John is very protective over Paul. And somebody pays them a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John was awoken by somebody slapping him across the face and disturbing noises. His eyes flew open and he realized it was Paul. Paul was slashing his arms and legs and muttered miserably and clearly distressed “No, please, no, stop, no, I don’t want to, please.” 

John, who had spooned Paul before he had been so rudely awoken, grabbed Paul’s arms, keeping him still. Somehow that only seemed to distress Paul even more. He started struggling and crying out “No! No! Let me go! Please, please, I don’t want to! Stop! Stop!” The fear and sheer misery in Paul’s voice freaked him out. “Paul! Paul, baby, it’s okay it’s okay! You’re just having a nightmare! Everything’s alright! It’s me, John, it’s only me!” 

He managed to retrain the young man’s arms and Paul calmed down slowly, still muttering softly “No, no, no…..” Finally the muttering stopped and John felt the tension in Paul’s body disappear. John tenderly wiped away some hairs from Paul’s clammy forehead, and Paul sighed. “Johnny?” a wobbly voice asked. He stroked Paul’s cheek, looking at him compassionately. “Yes darling, I’m here, everything’s alright, it was just a bad dream. Just go back to sleep, baby.” He heard Paul sigh again, and then he buried his head against John’s chest. “I’m so tired, I’m so tired.……” 

After a while Paul was deep asleep again, softly, every so softly snoring against his chest. John held him tight, his chin resting on Paul’s dark, silky hair. He couldn’t sleep. All kind of thoughts ran through his mind, preventing him to fall asleep again. What had that been all about? Seeing Paul so scared at first, and now witnessing that most horrific nightmare, had really freaked him out. He was deeply worried. What was wrong with Paul? What was it that scared him so? And what could he do to help his lover? 

He really couldn’t do much, could he, as long as he didn’t know the reasons for Paul’s behaviour. And knowing Paul, he wouldn’t talk about it, the boy was a master in avoiding difficult questions and hiding his feelings. But his eyes had given him away. They always gave him away. Paul was scared. Of him? John couldn’t bear that thought. Maybe throwing him out of his life all those months ago, had caused a trauma Paul wasn’t able to overcome? Oh God, what if he tried to kill himself again? John decided he’d better keep a good eye on him. 

***

Paul woke up and almost fell out of bed. John held him tight though, muttering “It’s alright, baby, it’s alright.” Paul raised an eyebrow, what was John talking about? He managed to cast a look at the alarm clock. Shit, it didn’t go off! Had they even set it last night? He struggled to remember, but came up empty. He needed to get up straight away, or he was going to be late for college. John was still vast asleep and looked exhausted.

He carefully freed himself from John’s arms. The man moved a little, muttering “It’s alright, it’s alright” again, but didn’t wake up. Paul had a quick shower, got dressed, took his bag and coat and headed for the door. No time for breakfast this morning. He hesitated for a moment, turned around and searched for a pen and a piece of paper. He scribbled down some words, and attached it to the fridge. Then he went back to the bedroom, took a look at the peacefully sleeping John and left the apartment with a smile on his face.

During his day at college, things came back to him. Last night after their return from his dad’s. John had wanted him to go down on him. And he had freaked out. Again. What was wrong with him? This was John! The John he loved so much! Not Mr. bloody Maxwell! John wouldn’t hurt him, wouldn’t force him, wouldn’t make him do things against his will! John was loving and tender and considerate. Why couldn’t he get a grip on himself? 

He remembered seeing the concern, the worry in John’s eyes, remembered his soothing words, reassuring him. Of course John would want him to go down on him. He had received a few blowjobs from John and it had felt amazing. It was only natural John would want the same. And he should be able to give that to John, after all he loved the man so much! He had to get his act together and stop being such a sissy. What on earth must John be thinking of him? 

A terrifying thought struck him. What if John left him if he kept refusing to go down on him? He couldn’t bear to lose him again! Paul straightened his back. He had made a decision. He was going to give John a blowjob tonight. He would push aside his irrational fears, and he would make it the best the man ever had! Paul tried to focus on what his professor was telling, but failed to do so miserably. 

***

John woke up feeling cold. With his eyes still closed, he reached out for Paul’s body, seeking the warmth the young man always radiated, finding the spot beside him empty. His eyes flew open “Paul?” He got up, put on his bathrobe and went for the bathroom, thinking Paul might be taking a shower. It was empty, but the wet towel lying on the floor (God the boy was such a grub sometimes!) indicated Paul had indeed taken a shower earlier.

As he walked into the living room in search for his lover, his eye caught a note attached to the fridge in their open plan kitchen. As he reached for the note, he took in the surroundings. No tea mug or empty cereals bowl on the counter, so obviously Paul hadn’t eaten breakfast. He started reading the note.

Johnny, 

I’ve gone off to college. You were sleeping so peacefully, I decided to let you sleep. 

You do need your beauty sleep after all!

I’m sorry about last night. I don’t know why I’m so uptight about the blowjob thingy.

I know very well that you would never force me, and that I’m really being a wimp about it, 

but I can’t seem to be able to stop myself from being scared of doing it. 

But I will come around sooner or later (I hope sooner!), I promise you, 

because the last thing I want to do is disappoint you. 

I love you so much! 

Thank you for being so patient and understanding. 

See you after work! 

All my loving, 

Your Paul 

John didn’t realize he was crying until he saw teardrops falling down on Paul’s note. He wiped away the tears angrily. Why the hell was he crying, and why was he angry? The note clearly expressed Paul’s love for him. That was beautiful, wasn’t it? Nothing to cry about. Certainly not something to be angry about. 

And then it hit him. Paul wrote that giving a blowjob scared him, but he would eventually do it so he wouldn’t disappoint him. That was not the right reason! Paul should do it because he wanted it himself, not because he didn’t want to disappoint John! It should happen out of love, not out of a sense of duty. Maybe Paul feared that John would leave him if he didn’t go through with something that he, whatever the reasons might be, obviously wasn’t ready for. 

Maybe he should make it clear to Paul once more that he wouldn’t pressure him. Yes, he longed to feel those luscious lips around his cock, who wouldn’t dream about that after all? But he wanted Paul to look up to him, while giving him a blowjob, and see love and lust in those glorious hazel eyes. Not fear. He didn’t want to see fear in the eyes of the young man he loved so much. He would tell Paul one more time that he would wait, reassure him that the future of their relationship didn’t depend on a blowjob.

***

Paul returned home after work determined to give John a blowjob. He would put aside his fears and bad memories and would just do it. When he arrived home, he found John sitting on the ground, guitar in his lap and a bunch of screwed up pieces of paper scattered around the living room. “What’s this all about then?” he enquired curiously. “Trying to write a song, but I don’t seem to get the lyrics right” John sighed. “How was college?”

Paul put down his bag and plopped down on the couch. “Couldn’t keep attention in class today” Paul sighed “and it was very busy at the library, so I’m knackered. What’s for dinner?” John looked at him with a guilty look on his face. “I have been so occupied with these lyrics. I completely forgot to get the groceries. Sorry.” 

“Maybe we could go out to get some fish and chips then? I’m kind of hungry. Although that does require getting up from my lovely couch again, and I don’t know if I’m capable of that right now.” Paul let his eyes wander around the room. “So what are you trying to write about then?”John smiled at him “You of course. I’m trying to write about you.” John stood up from the floor and walked over to the couch, kissing him softly on his lips, making Paul sigh contently. “I missed you this morning” John whispered in his ear, running his fingers through his hair.

”Didn’t you find my note then?” Paul asked shyly, blushing slightly. “Yes, I did, baby, and I want to talk to you about that…...I don’t…...” Paul interrupted him “I meant what I wrote, John, I am going to give you a blowjob, as a matter of fact.…..” he caressed John’s cheek and gave the man a mischievous smile “……how about us going to the bedroom right now?” 

John frowned at him and took Paul’s hand in his. “That’s what I want to talk to you about, baby. You don’t have to feel like you have to give me a blowjob in order to keep me from leaving you. You don’t have to be afraid of disappointing me. I love you, you know. I only want you to go down on me when you’re ready for it, when you really want to do it yourself, not because you feel you have to do it for my sake. I can wait, you know. We’ve got all the time in the world, baby.” 

Paul had been looking at him with wide eyes and swallowed, trying to keep tears from falling. “I just don’t know what’s wrong with me, Johnny. I love you so much, why can’t I just do it?” John stroked his cheek again. “Take your time, Paul, take all the time you need, don’t rush anything. We’ve come this far in our relationship, conquered difficulties along the way, so this is just another hurdle we will have to take, and we will take it when the time is right. We can find our way somehow.” 

***

In the weeks that followed, things started to change, both privately as well as professionally. Professionally The Beatles had become more and more successful, drawing ever growing audiences. They had developed a steady fan base that kept growing.

John and Paul’s chemistry on stage was electrifying, and the audience loved their wit and repartee, the way their voices blended so perfectly and the sheer enthusiasm they expressed. The band’s playing had most certainly improved a lot since Paul’s return. Somehow Paul seemed to keep them all in time. Even Stu’s bass playing had improved a little.

The owner of the Cavern had them booked for six nights a week now, instead of just the Saturday night. That resulted in a tremendous raise of pay. Subsequently Paul had left his job at the library, the pay they both received at the Cavern being enough to pay the rent and the groceries. 

They also had been asked to do lunch gigs, but that would mean Paul would have to stop teacher training college. Paul was still considering that move. He knew his dad wouldn’t be too happy about that. Becoming a teacher would result in a steady job and a reasonable good salary, while playing with a band resulted in an uncertain future. He had no way of knowing if they would succeed and make it big. If they failed as a band, money would become a problem, and he wouldn’t be able to fall back upon a teaching job if he left college now. 

But playing with the band, maybe getting a recording contract, going to the top……..that was what Paul really wanted. John had been trying to talk him into leaving college. “We will make it big, Macca. You and I will conquer the world, I can feel it in my bones!” John’s enthusiasm had almost convinced him. Almost. Until his dad’s face came to mind, disappointment written all over it because his eldest son wanted to quit college. And then Paul started doubting everything again.

But for Paul the biggest change was privately. His relationship with John blossomed; it had grown deeper, more intense. He hadn’t realized how much his fears had put a strain on their relationship, how much he had feared losing John over his reluctance to go down on him. John’s assurance he wouldn’t walk out on him and give him all the time he needed, was such a relief for him. It suddenly seemed a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, a weight he hadn’t known was there. He felt much lighter, not having to do the things he was so afraid of. He felt more self confident and able to express his emotions better to John. 

And John had been so loving, so.……so…....almost…...protective of him. Paul felt safe in his arms, loved, cherished. And in return he found himself to be more loving to John, to express his true feelings for the man without holding back. And he knew John was the one he wanted to spend his life with, no matter how hard it would be in a world that was so cruel towards homosexuals. He knew that as long as they had each other, they would find their way somehow. 

***

Things had changed. John could feel it in his bones, in every fibre of his body. Paul seemed to have opened up to him emotionally. He talked more about his feelings, about his hopes and fears, told him how much he loved him several times a day and how much he wanted to be with him.

Physically their relationship had blossomed as well. The kisses and caresses were not only more frequent, but also far more intense and loving. And the sex…….John closed his eyes as he imagined Paul’s elegant, long fingers touching every inch of his body, his lips kissing his neck, his face, his mouth, their cocks rubbing together, so good……so good……John moaned and his hand found his way in to his trousers, touching his semi -erection. “Paul, oh Paul….” 

A knock on the door stopped his actions. Shit! Who could that be? Maybe he should just pretend he wasn’t home? But the person on the other side of the door was persistent and knocked again. John got up from the couch, zipped up his trousers, ran a hand through his hair and headed for the door. “George, what on earth are you doing here?” George chuckled “Well good afternoon to you too, Lennon. Mind if I come in?” 

John took a step back and gestured George to enter the small apartment. “Never been here before. Looks nice. Small, but very nice. Better than Gambier Terrace, I’m sure.” George looked around “Ah a kitchen! Do you use it?” John looked at George with an offended look on his face. “Of course we use it, you git. We have to eat, don’t we?” 

George eyes searched the rest of the apartment “Is that a real bathroom? Just for the two of you? No need to share one with dozens of others? I can understand you moving here, mate! But still only one bedroom?” George opened the bedroom door and John’s stomach dropped, trying to remember what state they had left the room in this morning. “Don’t tell me you have to share the bed with Paul. That’s not exactly a step up from Gambier Terrace.” 

John entered the small bedroom as well. Pulling the unused mattress from underneath Paul’s bed. “Of course we don’t share a bed, you git! I have my own mattress! Just put it under the bed during the day so we have more space. It’s not exactly a large bedroom, is it? All I have to do to get a nice kip is to pull it out and lay my head on my own pillow.” George nodded.”Makes sense to me.” John sighed softly, relieved George believed the little white lie. “So what brings you to our humble home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So why exactely is George paying them a visit? Read all about it in the next chapter!


	26. MORE RABBIT HOLES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Paul decides it's time to jump down some rabbit holes, much to John's delight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

As it turned out, George had run into Alan Williams, their on-and-off manager, who had told him he had a job for The Beatles in Hamburg, playing for a couple of weeks in de Kaiser Keller, a much better club than they played at last time. So did they want to go? “You think Paul would come with us this time? Still don’t understand why he didn’t want to go last time. Did you ever find out the reasons behind that?” 

John shook his head. “I’ve tried to ask him about it, but he said he couldn’t tell me, but that he had very good reasons and told me to just accept that and not ask about it anymore. So I never asked him again. All I know is that he really loved performing with the band and he must have had a pretty damn good reason not to come to Hamburg with the rest of us. But for whatever reason he’s not able to tell me why. So I decided to let the matter rest.” 

George frowned. “He’s awfully closed up sometimes, isn’t he? He never seems to show his emotions much, never has done, for as long as I know him. I sometimes wonder why that is, because he can be so passionate about some things, certainly when it comes to music. So you think he will come this time?” 

John sighed. “I honestly don’t know, but I’ll ask him when he comes back from college, so we’ll probably have an answer by tonight.” George nodded in agreement. “But what are we’re going to do if he says no? Will we go to Hamburg without him, like we did last time? Williams promised us a very nice pay indeed and I sure can use the money. And I know Pete can too, you know.” 

John shook his head. “I’m going _nowhere_ without Paul, George. Without him the band just isn’t good enough. He’s the glue that keeps us together, the clock that keeps us all in time, the cement that makes sure we don’t crumble. We need his musicality, his voice, his stage presence. I couldn’t _possibly_ perform without him anymore, I need him beside me on stage, sharing a mic with him, playing with him, singing with him. The band needs him, _I need him.”_

***

When Paul arrived home after college, John greeted him like he hadn’t seen him in days. John hugged him tightly and whispered he had missed him. “I’ve only been gone for a few hours, John” Paul chuckled. “You act like I’ve been gone forever.” John hugged him even tighter and put his head on his shoulder. “Every minute without you seems like an eternity.” Paul softly kissed John’s hair. “Well I’ve missed you too, Johnny, I couldn’t seem to concentrate today, my head was filled with thoughts of you. You’re a very bad influence on me, you know.” 

John loosened his grip on him and backed off a bit, looking him in the eyes. “George came to visit me today.” Paul raised his eyebrows in wonderment. “George? I don’t think he’s ever been here before, has he? So why was he here then?” He realized John suddenly looked a little……nervous? “Well he first asked me to show him the apartment. I almost had a heart attack when he saw only one bed in the bedroom and asked where I slept. I remembered the mattress underneath our bed just in time, and explained how I pulled it out every night, because there was too little space for two beds. I think he bought that.” 

“Well yeah, why wouldn’t he buy that, it’s very plausible. But that can’t be the real reason for him coming over.” He looked at John questioningly. “No, he……eh…….he bumped into Alan Williams, and he…...eh……he offered us a gig. For a couple of weeks, or maybe months. With some serious wages. But..….eh…..if you don’t like it we won’t do it, you know. You don’t have to feel pressured, I mean, I’m not going without you, so if you can’t go, it’s okay, you know, I’m not going to throw you out of the band or something, we will just not go without you…….It’s in Hamburg.” 

Paul had listened to John’s rambling with growing astonishment, not knowing what John was on about. Until the last few words. _“Hamburg?”_ John looked at him with a plea in his eyes. “I would really, _really_ like you to come with me to Hamburg, baby. But it’s okay if you don’t want to…...” “I’ll come” Paul said, but John didn’t seem to hear him. “I mean, I really want to go there again, but not without you…..” 

“I’ll come” Paul said again, but John kept on talking “We can play at the Kaiser Keller, which is a big step up from the Indra, where we played last time, but I really don’t fancy doing it without you…...” “John, are you even listening to me? I said _I’ll come!”_ John suddenly stopped talking, his jaw dropping open, his eyes looking at his partner in astonishment. “You’ll come? To Hamburg? With me?” Paul laughed “Yeah, I’ll come. To Hamburg. With you.”

***

John could hardly believe it. Paul wanted to come with him to Hamburg! He threw his arms around his lover’s neck and started covering his face with little kisses. “God, baby, I was so afraid you wouldn’t wanna come! But……” he stopped kissing Paul’s face and searched the young man’s eyes with a frown “Are you sure? I mean……what about your studies? We’ll be gone for weeks, what are you’re going to do about college?” Paul smiled at him. God, the boy looked adorable when he smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to quit college then.” 

John looked at him with a pensive look on his face. “But you said you didn’t want to give up studying, because getting a teaching degree would give you financial security. We’ll get a nice pay playing at the Kaiser Keller, but it’s only for a couple of weeks or months at most. You don’t know what will happen afterwards. There’s no guarantee we will make it big and earn good wages after our stay in Hamburg. And if you quit teacher training college now, there’s nothing to fall back upon.”

Paul smiled at him again and John felt his knees go week. God, Paul was so fuckin ’gorgeous! “Yeah, a teaching job will give me financial security. And I’ll probably be good at it too. But it’s not like I really _want_ to be a teacher. It’s not my dream job, you know. What I really want to do in life is _to make music!_ I love performing, I love creating music, that’s my passion, it always has been. And, yeah, there’s no guarantee playing in The Beatles will bring me that _financial security_ a teaching job will bring me, but it will definitely make me _happier.”_

“Being on stage with you, sharing that mic with you……..that makes me happy. And maybe happiness is more important than money. I’d rather be poor and happy, doing what I love doing, than rich and unhappy in a job I don’t really like. So I’m gonna take my chances, it’s about time I do, and jump down the rabbit hole.” 

“And I will jump with you, baby, we’ll do this together. And when we come back from Germany, I’m sure we will get more gigs over here. The Cavern already asked us to do lunchtime shows. And since we share the apartment, we can share the rent. I don’t really need much, you know. Just some food and you.” 

His hand stroke some strands of hair out of Paul’s face. God, he had a beautiful face! Butterflies were suddenly occupying his stomach. He pressed a soft kiss on Paul’s lips. “You go ahead and do your homework baby, I’ll make you a nice cuppa.” 

Paul looked at him wonderingly. _“Do my homework?_ John, what’s the use of doing my homework if I’m gonna quit college? I can think of some better things to do with my time!” “What do you have in mind then?” John asked with a big grin on his face. “Well it consists of you, me and the bedroom” Paul chuckled. ”And I think it’s time for me to jump down another rabbit hole today..….” John felt Paul slowly pushing him in the direction of the bedroom, his hands grabbing his shirt and kissing him passionately. 

He was pushed on the bed and suddenly Paul was all over him, pulling John’s shirt over his head as well as his own. He unbuckled John’s trousers and shoved them down his legs. “Oh, you’re in a feisty mood, are you? I _love_ it when you take control, baby!” John threw his head back on the pillow as he felt Paul’s hands roaming his body, his lips licking his chest, lingering on his nipples, going lower towards his stomach, going lower, even lower……”Paul, no baby, you don’t have to…..” He raised his head to see Paul’s lips around the tip of his now fully erect cock. 

But even better than that image, was the look in his lover’s eyes. _No fear,_ no fear at all. Just lust. _Lust and love._ And as Paul’s mouth slowly covered his entire length, they kept holding eye contact. “Oh my God, Paul…...” It felt so good, so incredible good…...John threw back his head on the pillow, enjoying the feeling of Paul’s warm mouth, as he started moaning deeply. “Baby, baby, yes, that’s it, so good, so good.” John was so grateful for rabbit holes!

***

Paul knew he had taken a giant leap in their sexual relationship. And it hadn’t scared him at all. He had just given in to his feelings of love and lust and had gone down on John. And he had _enjoyed_ it. John’s moans were deep and full of lust and satisfaction, and it made Paul feel great that his actions were the cause of it. He increased his tempo, bopping his head up and down, and felt John’s fingers in his hair. 

This was so different from what he had experienced with Mr. Maxwell! That man had just fucked his mouth brutally, giving the young boy (he had only been nine the first time it had happened) no chance to breathe, making him gag. Paul had thought he would suffocate. But this…….he was in control, he decided how deep he could take John’s cock, he controlled the tempo, he could take a breath when he wanted to……There was no fear, just love, and it felt great to please his lover like this. 

He hardly registered John’s warning “Paul, I’m almost there, baby, I’m almost there…...Paul, please, I’m gonna come, love, pull back baby!” But he didn’t pull back, didn’t want to pull back. He wanted John to come in his mouth, just as he had done with John so many times already. If John could do that, so could he. He loved him after all. 

Suddenly he felt John’s body stiffen below him and a deep animalistic groan escaped John’s mouth. Paul felt spurts of sperm on his tongue and shivered. He had almost forgotten how terrible the taste of sperm was. He couldn’t swallow that! He realized John had swallowed his on several occasions, but he just couldn’t do it. 

He pulled back and started couching, tears springing into his eyes. John reached out to him, caressing his hair. “Spit it out, love, just spit it out.” Paul reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table, and grabbed a handful, spitting John’s cum into it. “Sorry, sorry Johnny” he stuttered, still couching. John chuckled “I _did_ warn you, love, didn’t you hear me? And you don’t have to apologize, you know, I know it doesn’t exactly taste like a nice glass of beer.” Paul wiped the tears from his eyes. “I did hear you, but I just wanted to……you know, you do it all the time, so I thought I could do it to. I had forgotten how awful it tastes!” 

“Come here, you silly boy!” John reached out and grabbed his arms, pulling him down beside him in their small bed, caressing his hair. Paul rested his head on John’s chest and felt John’s arm encircling his shoulder. He felt so protected, so safe. 

“Was I any good?” he doubtfully asked John. John intensified his grip on his shoulder, pulling him closer. “You were great, baby, best blowjob I’ve ever had! Thank you, love, thank you so much, you’ve made me the happiest and most satisfied man on earth” he whispered in Paul’s hair. Paul tried to cuddle even closer, his arm around John’s waist. “I love you, Johnny, I love you so, so much.” John kissed his hair. “I love you too, baby, more than I can ever say.”

***

Before their show that night, John informed Stu and Pete about their impending trip to Hamburg. “And Paul’s coming with us this time!” he told them with a big grin on his face. George had jumped up from joy “Way to go, Paul! It’s gonna be a blast! I’m so glad you’re coming!” Paul laughed at George’s enthusiasm “So am I Georgie, so am I” Stu frowned and looked at John. “So McCartney is coming along this time? Are you sure his daddy will let him come?” 

His voice sounded sarcastically and John threw him an angry look. “Paul’s old enough to make his own decisions, Sutcliffe, and _yes,_ he’s coming with us. And we are _very lucky_ he wants to come with us. Last time we went to Hamburg, it wasn’t exactly a very successful enterprise now, was it? But with Paul there this time, we are going to nail it! We’re going to knock those Germans off their feet!”

John felt that he and Paul were on fire that night. They had so much joy playing together. But something was nagging in the back of his mind. He didn’t realize what it was, until halfway through the show, it suddenly hit him. Paul’s words after their love making that afternoon. 

“I had forgotten how awful it tastes”. That was a strange thing to say for a man who had never given a blowjob before, wasn’t it? How could Paul know what another’s man cum tasted like? He looked at Paul from the corner of his eyes. The young man was standing on the other mic, singing a beautiful version of “Till there was you”. John always loved it when Paul sang that particular song, it was like he was singing it just for him. 

As if Paul felt John was looking at him, he turned his head towards him and their eyes met. Paul smiled at him as he kept singing those words, directing them straight at John’s heart. “There was love all around. But I never heard it singing. No, I never heard it at all. 'Till there was you.” John felt his heart beat faster, a blush creeping up his cheeks. God, he loved that beautiful boy.

When they arrived back at their apartment after the show, Paul immediately went for the shower, washing the sweat of his body. The Cavern was always very hot and damp, and Paul always gave his all on stage, which made him sweat profoundly. Not that John minded, he looked absolutely delicious all sweaty! 

But suddenly that nagging feeling was back. _Paul’s strange words._ He had to know what Paul had meant. But when Paul came out of the shower, one towel wrapped around his waist, while he used a second one to dry his hair, body still a bit wet, looking so luscious, he forgot what he was about to ask and wrapped his arms around the boy, kissing his neck. And before he realized what happened he was lying on top of Paul, both of them stark naked, rubbing their cocks together in ecstasy. 

Lying in each other’s arms after their orgasms, John suddenly remembered what he was dying to ask. “Paul, baby, after your blowjob this afternoon you said something that puzzled me.” Paul cuddled up closer to John. “Did I?” John nodded. “Yeah, you said you had forgotten how awful cum tasted. But……how can you know what it tastes like if you’ve never given a blowjob before?” 

He felt Paul stiffen in his arms. He looked at his lover and saw that Paul’s face had gotten very pale, his eyes wide with shock. “Paul? Are you alright? Paul?” John was worried suddenly. Paul looked like he was about to faint! “Paul, baby?” 

A blush crept up on Paul’s pale cheeks. “Yeah, well…...I…...uh, I…...you know, just wanted to find out…...you know, just what it tasted like…...you know, being a bit curious and eh…...well after I wanked off one day, I just kind of……you know, licked my fingers to taste it, you know.” He lowered his eyes, very embarrassed “That’s why I knew what it tasted like.” 

John started laughing. “Oh Paul, you silly git! Here I was thinking you had given some other bloke a blowjob secretly!” Paul laughed along shyly. “Never Johnny, you’re the only one for me.” John hugged Paul tightly. _His Paul._ God, how he loved his boy!

***

How stupid could he have been? He almost gave his secret away! He’d better watch his mouth in the future, especially when he was in the middle of passion. Thank God he managed to come up with a plausible explanation. It had been embarrassing to tell John he had tasted his own cum, but John didn’t seem to find it very strange and had believed him. 

Paul had been upset, even though he hadn’t let John see that, because he hated the fact that he had told such a blatant lie to the man he loved. But what could he do? There was no way he could let John find out about Mr. Maxwell!

Paul sighed as he got off the bus. Just a short walk to his dad’s now, for Sunday Roast. Most Sundays he took John along, after notifying his dad before of course, who didn’t seem to mind John coming along, but sometimes John went to see his aunt Mimi. This afternoon he walked alone through Forthlin Road, after telling John he was going to tell his dad about leaving college and going to Hamburg. “It’s probably better if I do that alone, John. Dad might get angry at you, thinking you talked me into it and blaming you.” And so they had gone their separate ways that afternoon, but not after a good kissing session in the hallway. 

And now he had to tell his dad about his plans. He knew he wouldn’t be happy about it, disappointed that his bright son was about to choose an uncertain existence as a musician above a respectable job as a teacher. But nothing to be done about it, he had made his decision and he wouldn’t change that, not even to please his father. Still, he hated letting his dad down though. With a deep sigh he entered his childhood home. “Dad, it’s me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time they'll be heading off to Hamburg!
> 
> I'm going to be on holiday for the next three weeks.I will try to stick to my posting schedule, every Tuesday and Friday, but it all depends on the internet connection on our campsite.I hope it will work out. If not, then the next chapter will be posted on 4 August. So fngers crossed and keep checking every Tuesday and Friday!


	27. HAMBURG

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John and Paul say goodbye to their family and leave for Hamburg. But things aren't exactely what the expected......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“So how did it go with your old man then?” he asked Paul as the young man plopped down on the couch. ”As well as I expected. Which isn’t very well.” John sat beside him, grabbing his hands. It was very clear by the look on Paul’s face that it indeed hadn’t gone very well. “He gave you a hard time then, did he babe?” Paul sighed “Yeah, he lectured me about being irresponsible, throwing my life away, choosing fun over financial security, and all along blaming you for it. Oh John, he is so disappointed in me! I don’t want him to be disappointed in me, I want him to be proud of me! Maybe I shouldn’t quit college after all. Maybe I shouldn’t go to Hamburg!” 

John’s heart froze. “Baby, baby, calm down! Of course you’re coming to Hamburg with me! We’re going to jump down the rabbit hole together, remember? Come on love, don’t change your mind now, your dad will come around.” He squeezed Paul’s hands and brought them to his mouth, kissing each knuckle separately. “And if he doesn’t come around, we will still have each other, Macca, always, we can find our way somehow.”

Paul smiled at him weakly “Yeah I know we will John, it’s just so frustrating. Why can’t I just do what I really want, without disappointing dad? He also told me my mum would be extremely disappointed as well. Do you think she would be disappointed, John?” John’s heart sank. He wasn’t able to really answer Paul’s question, since he never knew Mary McCartney. Thoughts of his own mother came to his mind. Would Julia have been disappointed he never finished Art College? He didn’t think so, but then again Julia had been a free spirit, while Paul’s mum had been a responsible nurse. 

“I think your mum would have wanted you to be happy, baby. She might have wanted you to become a teacher, but I if she had known where your heart really lies, I think she would have accepted that in the end. And I’m sure so will your dad.” 

John kept holding Paul’s hands, his thumbs now softly rubbing the back of those elegant hands. He couldn’t bear it if Paul would back out now and decided not to go to Hamburg. He realized Paul was hurt by his dad’s harsh words. He never understood why he was so attached to his father, why he always wanted his approval so badly. But maybe that was something every son wanted from his father? He wouldn’t know, since he never had one, and he knew better than to criticize Paul. The boy’s pain was clearly written on his face. 

“It’s gonna be alright, baby, just don’t back out now, please? I can’t go to Hamburg without you, please come?” He hated the desperate sound in his own voice, but he couldn’t help it. His eyes searched Paul’s and once again he was mesmerized by their colour. Light hazel, dark brown, deep green, golden spots. Beautiful. “Paul?” The young man smiled, his eyes never leaving John’s. “I’ll come with you, Johnny.” 

***

The day before their departure to Hamburg, Paul went to see his dad to say goodbye. He had unsubscribed himself from college, even though Dusty had also tried to talk him into staying. “You’ll be a perfect teacher, Paul. You’ve got the ability to communicate with pupils in a way that really transfers the curriculum to them. I would love to have you as my colleague at the Inny. You’ve already gotten so far with your studies, it would be such a shame to stop now.”

But Paul had held on to his decision. He and John had said their goodbyes to Dusty and Steve and now he found himself sitting in the small living room of 20 Forthlin Road. John had wanted to accompany him, but Paul told him he needed to do this on his own. “I’m leaving tomorrow, dad, we’ll be gone for ten weeks. It’s supposed to be the best club in Hamburg, and we get a really good pay.”

His dad looked at him with a deep frown on his face. “It’s not that I don’t understand your love for music, son. Of course I do! And I know you’re a very good guitarist and you’ve got a lovely voice, but Paul, the chances of being able to make a living out of playing music are so slim. Can’t you just keep doing it as a hobby, and finish your study?” 

Paul felt really bad, but he had made his decision. “I’m really sorry to let you down like this, dad, I really am. But I have to do this. If I don’t take this chance, I might regret it for the rest of my life. Please understand?” 

He looked at his dad with pleading eyes. Jim McCartney sighed deeply. “There’s nothing I can do to change your mind, is there, son?” Paul shook his head “No, there isn’t. I’m sorry dad. I have to go now, I have some packing to do, we leave early tomorrow morning.” He stood up from the couch, hesitantly. He wanted to hug his dad goodbye, but wasn’t sure his dad would appreciate it. But Jim walked up to him and hugged him fiercely. 

“Just be careful, son, and stay in touch alright? Come back home safely, please. I couldn’t bare it if something would happen to you” he whispered in Paul’s ear. Paul felt tears well up in his eyes. “Thank you, dad, thank you so much! I’ll write and call, I promise.” 

***

John had gone to Mendips, to say goodbye to his aunt. He hadn’t particularly wanted to go, but Paul had insisted. And he just couldn’t say “no” to Paul. It hadn’t exactly been a good visit though. Mimi had once again said those words that John could dream by now "The guitar's all right John, but you'll never make a living out of it".

She also expressed her contempt for Jim McCartney. “That little friend of yours was on his way to become a teacher, I just don’t understand that his father allowed him to quit college. It’s such a shame, if his father had his son’s best interests at heart, he should have forbidden your little friend to go to Germany with that band of yours.” 

John had been irritated by her words. “His name is _Paul,_ Mimi, not “your little friend”, but _Paul._ Could you at least call him by his name? And his father understands Paul’s passion for music and that he needs to do this, unlike you.”

So they didn’t part on the best of terms, although she did give him an awkward hug before he left. He was relieved to find Paul in a good mood when he returned from Mimi’s. At least his boyfriend had a good farewell. Desperately in need for a hug, he walked over to Paul, who sensed his need and opened up his arms. “Was it that awful, love?” He hugged John close. “You have no idea, baby. She was so dismissive of you, and she even insulted your dad. I’m sure she’s glad to see me leave.” 

Paul shook his head “I’m pretty sure she’ll miss you, John. She may not always show it, but I’m sure she loves you.” John chuckled “Well she got a strange way of showing it. God, it’s so good to be in your arms, to touch you. Touching is good, you know.” Paul kissed his hair “I couldn’t agree with you more, love.”

They finished packing their things, undressed and got ready for bed. They slipped under the blankets and lay on their sides, facing each other, their naked arms and legs entwined, their eyes locked, hands caressing naked skin, lips connected in a long tender kiss. “You’re so fucking beautiful Paul. I can’t believe how lucky I am that you’re mine.” Paul kissed the corner of his mouth “You have no idea how much I love you, Johnny, I can’t imagine a life without you. Please don’t ever leave me.”

John’s hands ran up and down Paul’s spine, making the gorgeous body shiver beneath his fingertips. “Never, baby, I will never leave you. As long as you want me, I’ll be there.” Their kisses grew more passionate, their tongues fighting for dominance. Paul ran his fingers through John’s hair, pulling it a little, making John moan. He took Paul’s face in both his hands and kissed him passionately, softly biting the boy’s bottom lip. “God I want you so much, baby, I want you so much.” 

Their love making that night was fierce, passionate, fast, needy, like it was the last night of the world. They ended up in a 69 position, John on top, their mouths filled with each other’s hard flesh, inhaling each other’s musky scent. They came almost simultaneously. They fell asleep, tired but completely satisfied, John spooning Paul, his arms around his body, hands resting on the boy’s taut belly. Paul’s hands holding John’s, entwining their fingers. Both of them totally at peace. Both of them ready for the next step in their lives. Both of them knowing they could find their way somehow. 

***

They arrived in Hamburg late at night, weary and stiff from the long journey. They immediately went over to their sleeping quarters. Paul’s mouth dropped open at the sight of where they were going to sleep for the next ten weeks. He had expected hotel rooms, nothing fancy of course, but at least _separate_ rooms, so he and John could sleep together. But instead…..

”Wow, that’s a lot better than last time” George exclaimed, “Look, we actually got a window! And our own bathroom! Man, this is gear!” Paul took in the space: a single room with one single and two bunk beds with worn out blankets and indeed a window, and a doorway, without a door, leading to a, well perhaps you could call it a bathroom. There was a toilet, without a toilet seat, a sink with a rickety looking faucet and a shower without a curtain. Was he really supposed to be spending ten whole weeks in this…...this……He looked at John in desperation. “John? Only one room?” he whispered, so the others couldn’t hear.

Stu had claimed the single bed, saying that since he was the eldest one, it was his privilege to have the single bed. “And you and Paul can take the top beds, since you two are the youngest” he told George. Pete nodded in agreement and took the bottom bed of the left bunk bed, George climbing on the top bed, declaring he was going to sleep straight away since he was knackered.

“We won’t be able to share a bed, I can’t sleep without you for such a long time” Paul whispered to John anxiously. John looked at him with an apologetic look on his face. “I thought when Alan told us we’d have better sleeping arrangements, we’d have separate bedrooms. Didn’t realize it would only be _slightly_ better.” 

John sat down on the lower bunk bed, looking up at him, while Paul stood there, feeling lost. This was not what he had expected! Hesitantly he looked around for somewhere to sit, but there wasn’t a chair. Nor a wardrobe. So he couldn’t hang up his clothes either, they would have to stay in his suitcase. He eventually sat down next to John on the bed. 

Their eyes met and they stared at each other silently for a while. “Sorry” John whispered, as he briefly put his hand on Paul’s thigh, making sure the others didn’t see it. “What if I have a nightmare?” Paul whispered “You always manage to stop it before it gets to serious, when we’re sleeping together. You won’t be able to do that now, John.” He felt John’s hand rubbing his back. “It’ll be alright Paulie. Maybe you won’t have a nightmare at all, after all they’ve been coming less frequently lately. I’m just gonna miss holding you in my arms at night.” 

Stu looked over at them and John hastily pulled his hand back from Paul’s back. “You don’t seem too happy Paul. Accommodation not to your liking, is it? Did the little princess expect a 5-starr hotel? And what are you two whispering about anyway?” 

Paul saw John shoot Stu an angry look. “Shut it, Sutcliffe! It’s none of your business, so leave us the fuck alone!” Stu turned around and plopped down on his bed again “Protecting your princess, are you John? You two are sickly clingy sometimes. You guys better watch it, people might get the wrong impression!” 

If looks could kill, Stu would have been dead by now, they way John looked at him. “Could you guys just stop arguing? Some of us are trying to get some sleep!” George called from the other bunk bed. 

***

John woke up from in the middle of the night, all his senses on high alert. Something was wrong, The bunk bed was moving, squeaking rather loudly and from the bed above him, he heard Paul’s voice “No, no, please, stop, I don’t want to…...please stop, you’re hurting me, no, no, no!” Shit. Paul was having a nightmare. John jumped out of the bed, bumping his head in the process. Fuck, that hurt!

“Paul, Paul, hush, hush, it’s alright, it’s just a dream, Paul, stop!” Paul’s arms and legs were flying around like a windmill, as if he was trying to fight off an attacker John couldn’t see. He tried to grab Paul’s arms, but got hit on the nose. Shit, that hurt too. Paul’s whimpering increased in intensity and volume. “Stop! Please, please stop! I don’t want to! No, no, please stop!” 

John heard the other beds squeak “What on earth? What’s going on? John? Paul?” George jumped from his bed on the ground and turned on the light. “What’s happening?” Pete had gotten out of bed as well. “Paul’s having a nightmare” John answered in a panicked voice. Why couldn’t he calm Paul down? 

“Paul, Paul, it’s alright, it’s just a dream, wake up, love, wake up!” Paul was trashing around and was on the verge of falling out of bed, when Stu grabbed his legs. “Try to immobilize him, John, or he’ll fall down and break his neck!” John grabbed Paul’s arms again and kept trying to calm Paul down. “Wake up, Paul, it’s just a bad dream, calm down, nobody’s gonna hurt you! Listen to me, love, it’s me, John, I’m here.” Slowly Paul’s movements settled down, and his whimpering became softer.

John let go of his arms and stroked his forehead. “It’s okay, Paul, everything’s okay.” Suddenly Paul’s eyes flew open and he looked at John with wide, scared eyes. “John?” John let out a relieved sigh “Yeah, it’s me. Everything is alright, Paul, you just had a bit of a nightmare.” Stu let go of Paul’s legs “A bit of a nightmare? Seemed more like a fuckin’ horrible nightmare to me! Hope you don’t have them every night, otherwise we’re not gonna have a lot of sleep here for the next couple of weeks!”

John shot him an angry look. “Shut up, Stu! You can’t help having a nightmare, it’s not Paul’s fault. So you don’t have to be so bloody unpleasant to him.” Stu turned around and crawled back in bed. “Whatever suits you, I’m going back to sleep.” Pete also decided to go back to bed, but George looked at Paul worriedly. “Are you okay, Paul? That was a hell of a nightmare, you had, love. You remember what it was about?” Paul shook his head. He remembered every little detail, but he wasn’t gonna tell anybody about that. “No, I don’t remember, George. Sorry about waking you guys up. I’m sure it won’t happen again, so just go back to sleep.” 

George returned to his bed. “Turn out the lights, will you, John?” John nodded “Yeah, I will in a minute, I’ll just bring Paul a glass of water.” He walked over to the sink and filled the glass that was standing there. Paul sat up straight and took the glass, looking pale and anxious. He took a few sips and searched John’s eyes. “Are you okay now?” John whispered as he pushed away a lock of black hair from Paul’s forehead. Paul nodded, took another sip, and placed the glass in John’s hand “I’m sorry” he whispered. 

John gave him a smile but his eyes looked worried. “It’s okay, baby, just go back to sleep now.” Paul lay down and closed his eyes “I’m sorry” he whispered again. John gently stroked his cheek, hoping the others wouldn’t notice it. “Goodnight Paul” “Night, Johnny.” John turned out the light and crawled back in his bed. These were going to be some difficult weeks…… 

***

Unfortunately the nightmares didn’t stop. For the first three weeks of their stay Paul’s nightmares woke everybody up at least twice a week. It made him feel terrible and he kept apologizing for it. Stu was very annoyed and so was Pete, and George was worried. But Paul couldn’t stop the nightmares from occurring. Maybe if he slept in John’s arms they wouldn’t be so severe, but that wasn’t possible. So he decided he’d better stay awake. If he didn’t sleep, he couldn’t have a nightmare, right? But the lack of sleep started to affect his stage performance. And one night, dead on his feet, when trying to sing “Long Tall Sally”, his knees just gave away and he collapsed on stage.

The other guys suggested he’d take some pills called “prellies” which they all took since they were introduced to it during their previous Hamburg stay. John had already suggested that before, but Paul had declined, not willing to take any drugs, and worrying about John taking them. But eventually he did, and it helped keeping him awake and alert. When he had them, he was on fire on stage, he didn’t feel tired at all, his energy level incredibly high. 

The Beatles shows had become an energy explosion, that everybody loved. Their audiences grew, as the word was spreading about this great band from Liverpool whose shows were like no other in Hamburg. Some of the girls in the audience actually screamed as The Beatles took the stage. But the adoration of the fans didn’t bring him the happiness he had hoped for. He missed John’s arms around him at night. He missed making love to him. And from the miserable look on John’s face, he knew John wasn’t a happy camper either. How were they supposed to go on like this for another couple of weeks?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul are not very happy. Will they find a way to spend some private time together? You'll find out in the next chapter.


	28. SONGWRITING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John and Paul find a solution to their problem. And Stu sees something.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

One night, in the break between shows, John followed Paul to the men’s room, pushing him inside one of the toilet cubicles, locking the door behind them. His lips crushed Paul’s, his hands grabbing Paul’s shirt. “God, Paul, I want you, so, so badly! I’m so fuckin’ horny!” He started to unbutton Paul’s jeans, his hand slipping inside, taking Paul’s length in his hand. Paul moaned “John, mmmmm, yes, oh God, I missed this.” 

John felt Paul’s hand touching his groin, palming his erection through the fabric of his jeans. John now unbuttoned his own trousers, shoving them down a bit, so Paul could touch him. The long, elegant fingers started wanking him off, while he kept doing the same to Paul. The sex was fierce and fast and they worked each other to their orgasms quickly. Panting heavily, they held on to each other tightly as they spilled their sperm on their hands, their mouths kissing feverishly. 

‘Shit, Paul, I needed this so much, you have no idea!” John kissed Paul’s neck. “Oh I have a very good idea, Johnny! We have to find a way to spend some time alone. I miss making love to you so much, it’s making me sick.” John rested his forehead against Paul’s. “Yeah, I miss you too. Man it’s hard, isn’t it? I had no idea it would be this hard. And it’s only getting harder, you looked so hot on stage tonight, I wanted to jump your bones right there and then.” 

Paul chuckled “Now that would have been some show for our dedicated audience! But seriously, John, I don’t think I can take this any longer. I want you so bad, it’s driving me mad!” John grinned “Now these are good song lyrics, son, all we need now is a good melody!” 

“Hey wait a minute…...that could be the answer to our problem! We’ll tell the others we need time alone to write songs! We’ll tell them not to come to our room for a couple of hours or so, because we don’t want anyone disturbing us when we’re working on a song! And then we have the room to ourselves to do whatever we want to do, which is having passionate sex! How about that?” Paul hummed in agreement. “That’s a bloody great idea, Johnny. I suggest we start writing songs right away!” 

***

The next day John ordered Pete, George and Stu out of the room. Paul watched as John used his authority as leader of the band to “diplomatically” explain them to leave the two of them alone. “Paul and I got songs to write and we don’t need you bastards to disturb our creative process, so get the fuck out of here and don’t even think about coming back here before six o’clock, or I’ll have your heads for lunch!” Always so tactful his John was.

Paul sighed deeply after his band mates had left the room. They were alone at last! He had been sitting on John’s bed and John joined him there. They faced each other for a moment, and Paul reached out to stroke John’s hair. “You handled that well, Johnny, you should consider a career as a diplomat!” he chuckled. “Yeah, I know, “diplomacy” is my middle name, you know,” Paul grinned. "Strange, you once told me your middle name was “Romantic“ and I always thought it was "Winston!”" 

John pushed him back on the bed “Making fun of me, Macca? Didn’t your dad teach you to show respect to your elders? Maybe I should show you what respect is, then.” He started tickling him, and Paul tried to wriggle out of John’s grip, laughing hysterically. John knew how ticklish he was and now used that against him. 

Suddenly John stopped tickling him, and cupped his face with both of his hands, connecting his lips to Paul’s. They kissed tenderly, repeatedly, and Paul’s hands caressed the nape of John’s neck, pulling him closer. Their kisses grew more passionate as they started their “battle of the tongues”. Paul felt heath explode throughout his body, his trousers suddenly too tight. “John” he moaned in the man’s mouth “Johnny”. John’s lust-filled eyes met his. “Let’s get undressed, baby, I want to see you naked” John whispered huskily.

They stood up from the bed, quickly took off their clothes and stared at each other for a moment. “God, you’re so gorgeous” John whispered, as he reached out to touch Paul’s chest, his eyes wandering down his body, stopping at his now rock-hard cock. “Beautiful.” John pushed him down on the bed, covering his body with his own. Paul felt John’s erection touching his and his pelvis started moving up on his own accord, trying to get more of that delicious friction. 

Their love making was intense and passionate, their naked skin burning underneath the other one’s hands, kissing each other feverishly, trying to make up for lost time. “God I’ve missed this” Paul declared with a sigh, grabbing John’s hand tightly and bringing it to his chest, as they laid next to each other after their orgasms. John hummed in agreement. 

“Promise me, John, that in the future we _insist_ on having a bedroom for ourselves. Being separated from you……I just can’t deal with that, it’s like living in hell.” John kissed his cheek “I promise, baby. I can hardly wait to go back home” Paul sighed again, turning his head to face John “Just a few more weeks, Johnny, and I think we’ve got a lot of _song writing_ to do in the meantime.” 

***

They started have song writing sessions every other day, John making it very clear to the others not to disturb them. They still weren’t able to _sleep_ together, but at least they could _make love_ every other day, and that was something they were both grateful of. And the quickies in the men’s toilets at the Kaiser Keller also helped a great deal in making them both feel a lot better.

They had to be careful of course, so they would not be caught. One night George had come looking for them in the men’s room, just as John reached his climax in one of the cubicles, and Paul had to put his hand on his mouth to prevent him from making a sound that would definitely have given them away.

They did actually spend _some_ of the time in their room writing songs. After their orgasms they would spend some time relaxing in each other’s arms, get dressed and spend the last hour or so trying to write songs. They had finished a song called “You’ll be mine” and one they named “Hello Little Girl” (they had to keep up the appearance of being straight after all), and were working on something Paul had started some time ago called “Like Dreamers Do”. 

Writing together was exhilarating; John loved how they were able to create a song together from start to finish. It was also a very _intimate_ process, picking each other’s brains, trusting each other’s opinions, complementing each other. And when they had completed a song, it almost felt like an orgasm. A musical, creative and emotional orgasm. Although John preferred a _sexual_ one, preferably by Paul’s lips around his cock. God, the boy could give delicious blowjobs!

Lately John had started to think about something else though. He wondered what it would feel like to _fuck_ Paul. He knew anal sex was something homosexual men did, but he didn’t really know much about it. The thought of being _inside_ Paul, shoving his cock in a warm, tight hole however……thinking about it made him incredibly aroused. But would it be good for Paul? Would it give him pleasure? Or would it hurt him? He didn’t want to hurt Paul, no way! But if men let other men fuck them, it must bring them pleasure, right? They wouldn’t do it otherwise, would they?

The more he thought about it, the more he desired to find out what it was like. Paul had a great arse after all, and sometimes he had already tried to rub his cock between his arse cheeks, but Paul somehow didn’t seem to like that. So his guess was that Paul would be reluctant to let him fuck him. And the way he had been so reluctant to give him a blowjob, didn’t exactly bode well. 

On the other hand, when Paul finally _had_ given that much desired blowjob, he really did seem to enjoy it, so you never knew. But maybe Hamburg wasn’t the right place to try something that would obviously be a big step in their sexual relationship. Better to do that in the safe and trusty environment of their own apartment back home. 

And maybe he should try to find out more about anal sex first, because he really wanted it to be good for Paul as well. But how would he be able to get information about fucking a man? Not like he could go to the library to find a book about that. But maybe…….maybe he could ask somebody who probably had done it, like…...another homosexual man? Perhaps……perhaps he could ask Dusty and Steve? 

***

“Hey Stu, it’s your turn to pay to pay for lunch today, and you better have enough Deutsch Marks on you cause I’m so hungry I could eat everything on the menu” Pete slapped Stu’s shoulder. “And I could eat everything on the menu twice!” George chimed in. It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon, but since they usually got up late after their late night performances, it was now their lunchtime. “Yeah, yeah, you guys, I know you two are bottomless pits. So……..shit!”

Stu searched his pockets. “Damn, I’ve forgotten my wallet, left it at our sleeping quarters I guess. I’ll better go back to fetch it then.” George chuckled. “Not sure if we’ll ever see you again then. John said he’d have our heads for lunch if we disturbed them working, and since it’s lunchtime…....Is this your way of getting out of paying for lunch?” Stu smacked George’s head. “Shut it, Harrison, you guys look at the menu and I’ll go get my wallet.” 

***

“Oh fuck baby, I love your body so much, you’re so goddamn gorgeous!” Stu had opened the door just a crack, when he heard John moan. He stopped opening the door any further. That most certainly didn’t sound like song writing to him! Was John having sex with a bird in the middle of the afternoon? Was that why he didn’t want anybody to disturb him then? And where the hell was Paul then?

He opened the door a little further, trying to look inside. There was John alright, lying on the bed naked, another body beneath him. His hands were caressing long legs that were very……hairy? The arms that encircled John’s shoulders were very hairy as well. Stu’s eyes travelled up to the face of John’s bed partner, and his breath caught. That was no bird John was shagging! Stu couldn’t believe his eyes, but when he heard another voice moan “So good, Johnny, feels so good!” There was no doubt about it. John was having sex with Paul.

Stu didn’t know what to do. Should he walk in on them? He did need his wallet after all. But it would be so embarrassing for all of them. And John probably would have his head for lunch if he disturbed him now. Song writing! My arse! He found himself unable to take his eyes off the two men making out on the small bunk bed. There was a lot of passion in their actions, but also a lot of tenderness. He heard them whisper words of love and lust, heard them moan and groan, saw them kissing, sucking, biting, rubbing their groins together. 

He kept watching the scene, mesmerized. It was repulsive and beautiful at the same time. Somehow it didn’t surprise him to see _Paul_ like this, after all, the boy had such girlish eyebrows and much too long eyelashes, but _John?_ He had seen John shagging prossies last time they were in Hamburg. Although when he came to think of it, he hadn’t seen John in female company for ages. And they _were_ living together. And they _were_ freakishly close. But……John couldn’t be queer, could he? 

He startled when he heard John let out a cry of passion. “Oh God, Paul, Paul, Paul! I’m close, so close, oh fuck, yes!” Stu saw John arch his back and throw his head backwards. At the same time he heard Paul groan very deeply, remarkable since he usually had such a high pitched voice. “Fuck, John, I’m coming!” Both men had obviously reached their climaxes, and he saw John lie down on Paul’s body, panting, covering his face with kisses. “I love you, baby, I love you so much.” He saw Paul’s hands caressing John’s hair. “I love you more, Johnny.” Stu turned around and walked away.

“Could one of you guys pay for lunch today? I’ll pay you back tomorrow.” George raised his eyebrows “Didn’t you get your wallet, then?” Stu shook his head. “I probably left it at Astrid’s and she’s at college right now. I’ll get it back tonight and I’ll pay you back tomorrow.” He sat down at the table, picking up the menu, searching for something to eat. His appetite had completely vanished however, and he put it down again. “John didn’t bite your head off, then?” Pete grinned “Georgie and me thought we would never see you again. You took your time getting back.” Stu frowned. John would probably do _a whole lot more_ then bite his head off, if he knew he’d seen him with Paul. “Nah, they were busy. Hardly noticed me at all.” 

***

“Hey guys, Paul and I have been going through our set list for tonight and we’ve made a few adjustments. We’re gonna add “In spite of all the danger” and since it’s been quite a while since we’ve played it, we’d better rehearse it well before the show. And Paul will be singing “Till there was you” instead of “A Taste of Honey” and I’ll be doing “Money” instead of “Rock ‘n Roll Music”. And oh yeah, we’ve finished writing a new song as well, but we’ll have to learn it first, so we won’t be playing it tonight. It’s called “Like Dreamers Do” and Paul will do the lead vocal.”

They had met up with Stu, George and Pete in the Kaiser Keller, where they always regrouped before opening hours for their rehearsal, after their afternoon together. 

Their love making had been amazing and John was completely satisfied. His eyes met Paul’s. “We’ve had a very good song writing session this afternoon, didn’t we Paulie?” He saw Paul blush and lower those gorgeous eyes “Yeah, we worked on two other songs as well, so it was a very satisfying afternoon” he looked up to John again with a little smirk on his lips “Very satisfying indeed.” John laughed out loud “You’ve got that right, son!” and he threw an arm around Paul’s shoulder, giving him a side-hug and smiling broadly at his partner. 

Stu turned away from them with a look of disgust on his face, muttering something under his breath. “What was that you’re saying, Sutcliffe? You should speak up louder if you want people to hear you.” Stu looked turned around and looked at John. “What I was saying, _Lennon,_ is that the two of you should stop being so clingy. People might start to think something fishy is going on with you two, the way you always act around each other.” 

He saw Paul’s look change from playful to concerned. He saw the silent question in the wide eyes (Are we being too obvious? Does he suspect something?). John smiled at him reassuringly with a look that seemed to answer Paul’s question (Of course not. He’s probably just being a jealous prick, just envious of our friendship). He saw Paul relax, the worry leaving his eyes. “Well, let’s start doing “In spite of all the danger” then, see how it goes.” 

***

Paul had a strange feeling. Stu’s comment about them being too clingy worried him. Sure, John had tried to reassure him through the meaningful looks they always shared, seemingly able to read each other’s minds without the use of words. And Paul did feel a little less anxious, but still……

Throughout their rehearsal he had noticed the glances Stu casted him, and those glances made him feel uneasy. What was that he saw in Stu’s eyes? _Disgust? Disdain?_ They had never been good friends, after all Stu had been the source of John’s abandonment of him for a while when he was at school, and although John came back to him, thinking about that period still stung. 

And Paul also loaded Stu’s lack of dedication to the band, not really trying to improve his bass playing, which was still below level, even though it had improved a little since the start of their Hamburg contract. And Stu was always ridiculing him, mocking his eyebrows and eyelashes, saying they made him look like a girl. Paul had stopped reacting to those insults, hoping that if he didn’t bite, Stu would stop. But now it was like an ice cold breeze was directed his way. It felt like Stu…….like he knew about them?

He glanced at John, did he feel it too? Or was he just imagining things? John was laughing with George about a mistake they made and didn’t seem to notice anything off. But Paul was worried, his concerns distracting him from his playing and his surroundings. He turned around suddenly, not noticing how close to the wall he was. The neck of his guitar bumped in to it and with a loud crack, it broke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Paul's guitar has broken and they still have some weeks left playing in Hamburg. What will they do?


	29. LOSING A BASS PLAYER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Stu doesn't show up at the Kaiser Keller, and when he finally does appear he makes an anouncement......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“What am I gonna do John? I don’t have enough money to buy a new guitar!” Paul looked anxiously from his broken guitar to John and back. He felt tears well up in his eyes, but swallowed them away. He wasn’t going to cry over a stupid guitar now, was he? Stu would never let him hear the last of it. “Well, you can still sing, can’t you?” John reassured him, “And maybe you can play the piano some more, you already use the piano on some of our songs anyway. And in the meantime you can just save up for a new guitar. And of course I can borrow you some money, if you need, I’d be happy to.”

Paul send a him a thankful look, but shook his head nonetheless. “Thanks John, but I need to pay for it myself. Dad has always taught me to never borrow any money. I’ll just have to be more careful with my expenses and I’ll probably be able to buy a new one next month. But I won’t be able to afford a new one for the rest of our stay here. After all, we’ve only got about two weeks left in Hamburg.”

So Paul went on stage that night without a guitar, which felt a little weird, and alternated between singing while sitting on the piano and singing with a hand-held mic. Lucky for him, he was rather good at improvising on the piano, since he hadn’t rehearsed any of the songs on the instrument.

The next night Stu didn’t show up for rehearsal. That wasn’t exactly something new, since that happened quite regularly, but that day he didn’t show up for any of that nights performances either. Paul was furious. “He can’t just not show up like this! Doesn’t he have any feeling of responsibility? We’re a band, we should be able to rely on each other, he can’t just let us down like this. We need a _bass player!”_ John laughed loudly, “That’s funny Paul, you’re always on about Stu being such a lousy bass player, and now you’re angry about him not playing with us!” 

Paul shot him an angry look “Well better a _lousy_ bass player, than _none_ at all. He’d better show up tomorrow or otherwise I’m really going to give him a piece of my mind!” John apparently saw the whole thing as some kind of joke, but Paul was serious and he started to walk out of the club angrily. “Don’t go giving away pieces of your mind, baby, it’s much too precious.” John had walked up behind him and whispered in his ear. “He probably was in the middle of some steaming sex with Astrid and completely forgot about everything else. We know what that is like, don’t we?” 

Paul turned around to give _John_ a piece of his mind, but when he saw John wiggle his eyebrows at him, he couldn’t stay angry. He never could stay angry at John for too long, he just loved him too much. They walked back to their room chatting together amicably, al thoughts about Stu forgotten.

***

Stu didn’t show up for next night’s show either, and now _John_ was mad at him. “He can’t just not show up like this! Doesn’t he have any feeling of responsibility? We’re a band, we should be able to rely on each other, he can’t just let us down like this!” Paul gazed at him with wide eyes. Those were _his_ exact words from last night! “What are you staring at me for, Macca? Don’t you agree with me?” Paul nodded in agreement. “Of course I do, John, but what are we gonna do about it?” 

John stood up from the table where he, Paul and George were sitting after their show, Pete had already disappeared. “I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind, that’s what I’m gonna do!“ He shot Paul a stern look “And don’t you dare saying what you were about to say Macca!” Paul grinned at John’s words. “My lips are sealed, Johnny!” Next thing he knew, George and Paul stood up as well and the three of them were on their way to Astrid’s to confront Stu.

Of course Astrid and Stu weren’t home. Just their luck! So the three of them retired to their shared bedroom. “We’ll give it another try in the morning. I’m going to sleep now, I’m knackered” John declared, plopping down on his bed. But next morning, they didn’t have to go looking for Stu, because Stu came to them. John was about to read him the riot act, but Stu interrupted him. “Let me speak first John. I’ve got something to say that concerns all of you.” 

He looked around the room, his eyes wandering from George to Pete, then to Paul and back to John. “I’m leaving the band.” John’s eyes grew wide in astonishment and then he exploded. _“You what?_ Leaving the band? Are you out of your fucking mind? You can’t just stay away for two nights in a row and then come back to tell me you’re leaving the band! It’s _my_ band! _I’m_ the one who decides who stays and who goes! And I’m telling you to stay, you fuckin’ bastard!”

***

Paul’s mind was whirling. Stu was leaving. How did he feel about that? Part of him was relieved. He wouldn’t have to put up with such a lousy bass player anymore. And there was always this little bit of jealousy about the friendship John shared with Stu. Rationally he knew he had nothing to be jealous about, John loved _him_ after all, not Stu, but still…..

He hated this aspect of himself, he didn’t _want_ to be jealous, but he just couldn’t help it. But another part of him was worried. Even if Stu was a lousy bass player, he still was the _only_ bass player they had. So what were they supposed to do without him? They needed a bass player after all. Where would they find a replacement? 

John was really mad and kept shouting at Stu, getting angrier and angrier. If he kept going on like this, things were bound to escalate and John might get violent. Paul decided he had to calm him down and stepped up to John in an attempt to grab him and hold him back so he couldn’t attack Stu. But it was too late. John’s fist connected with Stu’s face, causing him to fall to the ground. “John, no! Stop it!” Paul wanted to grab John, who was standing over Stu’s body, hitting him, and tried to pull him away from Stu, but John pushed him aside. 

“Pete, George! Help me! He’ll kill him if he goes on like this!” Both men who had been standing there, watching the scene evolve before their eyes with astonishment, moved in to help Paul pull John away from Stu. “John! John! Calm down, calm down!” Paul stood in front of John, holding both his arms tightly as he tried to get John to look him in the eyes. “Look at me, John, look at me!” John finally seemed to calm down, but Paul saw the anguish in his eyes. “It’s alright, Johnny, just take a deep breath and try to relax.” John did as he was told and relaxed as he looked in Paul’s eyes.

He spoke softly to John, keeping eye contact with his clearly upset boyfriend. “John, if Stu wants to leave, that’s his choice. You _can’t_ order him to stay, it’s not your decision to make. You’ll just have to accept that. We’ll find another bass player, we’ll manage somehow, you still have me. We always find our way somehow.” 

Paul saw John’s anger disappear from his eyes and the man nodded, sighing deeply. Paul was still holding John’s arms and started rubbing them. “Are you alright now, Johnny?” John nodded again and then looked over his shoulder to see how Stu was doing. The man was still sitting on the ground, his nose bleeding and Pete was squatted down next to him. George came back from the bathroom with a wet cloth. “Gee John, I hope you haven’t broken his nose. I understand this comes as a shock to you, as it does to all of us, but there’s no reason to react like this!”

Paul heard John groan. “Oh God, I’m sorry Stu! I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry! I just saw red for a moment. Are you alright?” Pete stood up, while George held the cloth to Stu’s bleeding nose. “Does he look alright to you?” Pete reacted angrily. “It’s alright Pete, it’s okay” Stu suddenly spoke. Paul’s eyes wandered from Stu to Pete and then to John. “Could you all just leave the room for a few moments? I want to talk to John alone.” 

Stu addressed Pete, George and Paul, but his eyes were fixed on Paul. It made him feel uneasy and he looked at John questioningly. “John?” John turned around to face him “It’s okay, Paul, I’m alright. Just go at with Pete and George for some brekkie to our usual place, okay? I’ll join you there after Stu and I have talked.” 

Paul frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, to keep the peace?” John shook his head “We’ll be alright, Macca, don’t worry, okay? I’ll promise I won’t hit him again, we just have to talk alone for a few moments. I’ll see you in a while, okay?” Paul nodded, his eyes still full of worry and, following Pete and George, he left the room, feeling very uneasy, leaving John and Stu alone.

***

“Are you okay?” John asked Stu, who was still sitting on the ground, holding the wet cloth to his nose. He reached out his hand to him and pulled him on his feet. They stood there, facing each other, both looking rather uncomfortable. “Sorry about that” John pointed in the direction of Stu’s face. “It’ll heal, but I’m not sure about the mental wounds. You said some really harsh things, John.” 

John sighed deeply. “I know I did, it’s just, just……..I just didn’t expect it, you know, you leaving the band. I know your heart lies with painting and that the band is not a very serious thing to you, not in the way it is to me, or Paul or George for that matter, but still……I didn’t expect it.” 

Stu sat down on his bed. “I got offered a place at the Hamburg Art College, which is great, and it also gives me the opportunity to stay here with Astrid. I think I really love her, you know. Might even ask her to marry me.” John sat down beside him. “But you’ve been my friend for so long……” Stu chuckled. “It doesn’t mean we cannot be friends anymore. We can still write, or phone, you know, just stay in touch. I just won’t be in the band anymore.”

John sighed again, still feeling upset. “But what are we going to do without you? We need a bass player after all.” Stu shrugged “You can find another bass player, it’s not like I’m the only one on earth. You can find someone who can actually play and enjoys doing so. Besides, I’m sure Paul will be happy to see me go, he was always criticizing my playing anyway.” John frowned. “If it’s Paul’s comments that make you leave, I’ll talk to him, tell him to tone his remarks down a little.” 

Stu shook his head. “No, that’s not the reason, John. He’s right about my playing, I’m not very good, and my heart isn’t in it. It’s for Art College and Astrid that I’m leaving. Those are my passions. Just like yours are music and P…….” John raised his eyebrows “And what?” “Never mind, John, just accept that I’m leaving, find another bass player and make The Beatles a success.” 

“But can’t you at least stay till our gig here is finished? It’s only for two and a half weeks. I mean, we’re never gonna find someone to take over on bass for two and a half weeks.” “College starts on Monday, John, and I won’t be able to combine that with performing every night. And I wanna make a good start at college. Besides I know somebody who can take over on bass for the remainder of your stay.” 

John looked at him questioningly. “Paul.” John’s eyes grew wide with amazement. _”Paul?_ Why Paul? He’s not a bass player.” “No, but I’m sure he can learn quickly. He is very musical, very talented, isn’t he, and since his guitar’s been broken, he just wanders around the stage singing or plays piano. He could take over the bass.“

John thought about it. That would be a possibility. Paul would probably be able to learn the instrument in no time. There was just one problem. “He doesn’t have a bass though.” “He can borrow mine until you go back home. Just don’t let him change the strings around.” 

“So there’s no way I can convince you to stay in the band? I’m really going to miss you, you know.” Stu laughed as he stood up from the bed. “I’m sure you’ll cope, Lennon. Once you’ve gotten yourself a better bass player, you’ll probably be glad I left.” John stood up as well. “So this is goodbye, then?” Stu shook his head. “I’ll be seeing you around, John. Astrid and me, we will be coming over to see you guys play in the weekends. And of course I’ll come around to wave you off when you’ll return home.” 

Stu walked to the door, but hesitated and turned around to face John. “Just one piece of advice, John. When you and Paul come back here to do some _song writing,_ make sure no one walks in on you.”

***

Paul had gone for breakfast with George and Pete, but he didn’t feel hungry. There was a tight knot in his stomach, a feeling like something bad was about to happen. He didn’t like it at all, John staying alone at their sleeping quarters with Stu. What if John lost his temper again? Or what if Stu said something to John, putting him up against Paul? Or what if he convinced John to leave the band as well and stay in Hamburg with him? 

All kinds of horrible scenarios were occupying his mind. He shoved his fork around the plate of scrambled eggs, picking at them, but not eating them. “Hey mate, are you going to eat those eggs or what?” George suddenly asked, wakening Paul from his thought. “Eh, no, I’m not really hungry. You want them?” George grabbed his plate from underneath Paul’s nose and dived in. “Thanks mate, I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse.” 

Paul looked at him amused. It always stunned him how much George could eat without gaining any weight. The boy was still incredibly skinny. Now Paul wasn’t exactly fat himself, he was very slender to be true, but he knew that if he would eat as much as George did, his body would expand in not time. 

Suddenly John walked in and plopped down at the empty chair at the table. Paul glanced at him, trying to find out what kind of mood he was in. John looked kind of…….bewildered? “Everything alright then?” he carefully asked. John nodded. “He’s left the band straight away. He’s gonna start Art College on Monday.” John had been looking down at his hands, but now looked up at Paul. “Can I talk to you? _Alone,_ that is?” 

Paul was confused. What did John want to talk about? “Yeah, sure. I just finish my tea and I’m all yours.” John gave him a wry smile and stood up from the table. “See you guys later” he told George and Pete, walking to the door. Paul hastily gulped down his tea and followed John outside. “What do you want to talk about then?” he asked John, who was moving fast down the street. “Not here, Paul, let’s get back to our room first.” There was a strange sound to John’s voice and it worried Paul, the knot in his stomach growing tighter.

***

“So he said I’d better make sure nobody walked into us song writing together. At first his words didn’t sink in, but then it hit me! He had _seen_ us together! I asked him about it and he confessed he came back to our room one day to get his wallet or something and when he opened the door he saw us in bed together, having sex.” 

Paul looked at him, his mouth open, his face pale, his eyes full of worry. “John, please tell me you are kidding me?” John shook his head. “He really saw us together, Paul, he knows about us being together.” Paul suddenly felt his knees shaking. He had _known_ something bad was going to happen! “Is he……is he going to tell the others? Is he……is he going to…….to report us to…….to the police?”

Paul started to feel nauseous, he didn’t want to go to jail! “He said he won’t tell anybody about it. He did say he found it rather disgusting and didn’t understand why I would want to shag you when there are so many willing birds around.” Paul swallowed nervously. “What did you tell him then?” John shrugged. “What could I tell him? So I told him the truth.” “What truth?” Paul looked at him with anxious eyes. “The only truth there is. I told him I loved you.”

John recalled Stu’s face as he had said those words. “I love him.” He had looked at him with a mix of disgust and astonishment. “You love him? John, he’s a _man!_ Granted, he does look rather girlish with those plucked eyebrows, those doe eyes and long eyelashes, but even you, with your terrible eyesight should be able to recognize he’s not a girl. He’s got heavier beard growth than any of us! You can’t love him!” John had felt offended on behalf of Paul. 

“He doesn’t pluck his eyebrows! They grow that way naturally! And just because he has beautiful eyes, doesn’t make him look like a bird! He’s a very much a man, a very, very beautiful and sexy man. And yes I love him! I’ve been in love with him from the day I met him. But he’s not just gorgeous, he’s sweet and kind and…...loving and understanding and……witty and……and smart and……talented and, and…….I……I just…...just love him! He’s everything to me, he makes me……he makes me whole!” 

John had looked at Stu in despair. “I _love_ him Stu. I really do! I can’t help it. He’s my _soulmate,_ we are meant to be together. He’s the _only_ person in the world that understands me completely, who takes me as I am, loves me unconditionally. He makes me happy…....” Stu had shaken his head. “God John, you’ve really got it bad…....”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Stu has left the band. But is Paul willing to play bass for the rest of their stay in Hamburg? Read the next chapter to find out!


	30. GAINING A BASS PLAYER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> So The Beatles need somebody to play bass. But Paul is not just going to do that, is he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

The knowledge that Stu had seen them making love, had shaken Paul to the core. He felt very embarrassed about the fact that somebody had seen him having sex with another man. The thought made him feel sick. But he also felt scared. He knew they had to be very careful. Having sex with another man was a crime after all, and if somebody found out and reported them to the police.…..

And now Stu had found out. _Stu who didn’t like him at all._ Well he didn’t like Stu at all either, but that was beside the point. Stu now had the ammunition to shoot Paul down, to get him locked up! God they should have been more careful! But it was too late now. All he could do is hope and pray that Stu would keep his word to John and keep silent about them being together. 

“What did you say?” John had been talking to him, but Paul’s mind was too occupied with all the worries about Stu, he hadn’t really been listening to John. Had he said something about playing bass? “Are you even listening to me _at all,_ Paul? I _said_ you’re talking over as our bass player.” Paul raised his eyebrows and looked at John absolutely stunned. 

_“I beg your pardon?_ Did you just tell me I have to play the bass? _The bass?_ You’ve got to be joking!” He must have heard it wrong, he must have! “Come on Paul, your guitar is broken, so you don’t have an instrument to play. And since we are without a bass player at the moment you should take your responsibility and play the bass. Stu said you can use his as long as you don’t change the strings around.” 

Paul felt angrier and angrier at John’s words. “So _Stu_ says I have to take over on bass? And _you jump_ when he tells you to? Well John, _you_ might jump for _him,_ but _I_ don’t jump for _you!_ You _can’t_ tell me what instrument to play! You’re _not_ my boss! You can’t just order me around!” 

John started shouting at him. “It’s _my_ band, _I’m_ the leader and if _I_ tell you to play the bass, you’re gonna _play_ the bloody bass! Don’t be such a fuckin’ prick, just do what I tell you to do! You think you’re too good to play the bass, mate? Well I’ve got news for you! You’re _just_ another guitarist, nothing special, and right now you’re a guitarist without a guitar. You’re going to _play the bass_ and that’s it!”

Paul felt all colour leaving his cheeks. He wasn’t _just_ another guitarist, damned! He knew he was a very good guitarist, better than John anyway. He wasn’t going to stand in the back on stage playing the fuckin’ bass! And certainly not because John had the audacity _to order_ him to do so! He opened his mouth to say something, than thought better of it, turned on his heels and left the room. 

***

Paul didn’t show up at their rehearsal that night. John was furious. Paul had to learn the bass part for tonight’s performance and he just decided not to show up! Well, he’ll give him a piece of his mind before the show. He always had such a big mouth when Stu hadn’t shown up for rehearsal and now he didn’t show up himself! The bastard! But just as John thought his mood had reached an all time low, Paul didn’t show up for their show either.

So now he was left to go on stage with just George and Pete. Without Paul to sing the hardest rock ‘n roll songs and the sweetest ballads, and without a bass player, they were only half a band. The audience was booing them, and called out for Stu and Paul. The three of them struggled on and managed to play a complete set by repeating the songs, but at the end of the night John was fuming, but so were George and Pete.

“What _the hell_ did you say to Paul, Lennon? For him _not_ to show up, it must have been pretty terrible, since he usually is the most reliable one of us!” George was angry. John had gone off to talk to Paul about who knows what, and they apparently had a big falling out, otherwise Paul wouldn’t have let them all down like this. “He’s just a self righteous prick! Thinking only about himself, the bloody bastard. Well if he shows up at our room tonight, I’ll tell him where to shove it!” 

But Paul didn’t return to their room that night, and John was lying awake, feeling angry but also worried. Where the hell was Paul? Was he out there in the cold? Did he find another place to sleep? Paul didn’t show up at their room next day, nor did he show up for their rehearsal. And when it was time to go on stage, there was no sight of him either. Another performance without Paul. Another angry audience, another angry George and Pete. 

“For God sake, _find_ him John! We need him on stage with us. Find him and apologize for whatever you said to him!” Pete said before leaving the Kaiser Keller after their disastrous show. “Find His Holiness? I’ve got no bloody idea where he is, and I’ve got _nothing_ to apologize for! He’s the one who has to apologize for letting us all down like this!” 

But lying in his bed that night, his mind went back to everything that occurred the day Stu had resigned. He had told Paul they needed a new bass player and had ordered him to take over on the bass. _Ordered him._ Shit. He shouldn’t have done that, should he? Paul never liked to be told what to do, and he had _ordered_ him. He remembered what Paul looked like when he had left the room, as white as a sheet, clearly very upset. And now Paul wasn’t here for a second night in a row. Where did he go? 

Did some prossie take him home with her? They were always trying to get Paul in their beds for free. The boy was so popular with the birds, they were practically lining up for him. Of course Paul had always declined, but what if he did go home with one of them? What if he ended up having sex and decided he liked it better than with him? What if he decided he didn’t want sex with him anymore? John groaned at the thought. A life without making love to the most beautiful boy in the world? _No way!_

But there was another option that crossed John’s mind, one that worried him far more. What if Paul had done something stupid? He had been very upset after all. What if he had decided to.….. _to top_ himself? He remembered when Steve had told him about Paul’s suicide attempt. ”He may look very together, strong minded and self assured from the outside, but he’s actually very, very vulnerable, John, so please don’t hurt him.” 

And that was exactly what he had done. He had _hurt_ Paul by ordering him to play bass and by telling him he wasn’t a good guitarist. Hell, Paul was so much better on that instrument, on any instrument really, than him. Why had he said such stupid things? Especially since Paul was already upset about Stu finding out about them. What if Paul had been so upset he had…….John groaned again. No, no, no! Paul wouldn’t do that, would he? But he had tried before………John’s couldn’t stay in bed anymore. He had to find Paul! He had to find him right now! John jumped out of bed, got dressed and left the room, anxious to find Paul. _His Paul._

***

Paul had been so upset when he had left their room. John’s words had hurt him to the core. He had criticized his guitar playing. Paul had been practicing for years, passionately, until his fingers bled and damn, he was far better than John! And John _knew_ that! Just because his guitar was broken, that didn’t mean he had to play the bass guitar!

That wasn’t a very cool instrument, was it? Didn’t need the skills he obviously had. Just doing “ploink, ploink, ploink” standing at the back of the stage was not exactly what he envisioned for himself. He wanted to be up front, playing guitar, singing his heart out. He wanted to be in the spotlight, hell, he _deserved_ to be in the spotlight! And John had just ordered him (actually _ordered_ him, would you believe that!) to take a step back. Because that fuckin’ Sutcliffe had told him so! Paul had wandered around the city all day, not knowing what to do, trying to figure out his feelings, to list his thoughts. Did he want to stay in a band where John treated him as a just another sideman? He thought of them as equals. They wrote together, played together, sang together. Sure, John had founded The Quarrymen, but this was The Beatles, a completely different band, since none of the original Quarrymen were members of The Beatles. 

So was John their _leader_ and did that give him the prerogative to _tell_ the others what to do? Well, Paul wasn’t going to be ordered around! But the fact that John felt he _could_ ……even though Paul was so much more than another band member, so much more than just a friend…… 

It had gotten dark outside. It was late, he had missed tonight’s gig. Well, maybe that would _show_ John how well the band would be doing without him! Paul still felt very confused as he found a bench in the park to sleep on. It wasn’t comfortable, it was rather cold and his stomach was rumbling, but it would do. 

Next day he found himself sitting on the bench all day long, staring in the distance, trying to avoid that sickening feeling in his empty stomach, hoping he would be able to make a decision. But when darkness fell, no answers had come to him, and he cuddled up on the bench for a second cold and lonely night on an empty stomach. 

***

John was walking the streets of Hamburg, trying to find Paul. He’d been walking for hours, he was tired and close to tears. He was growing more desperate by the minute. _He couldn’t find Paul!_ What if something bad had happened to him? John would never forgive himself. How could he have been _so stupid_ driving the man he loved away from him like this? He had no clue as where to search for him anymore.

He had asked around if somebody had seen him, spoken to drunken sailors, prostitutes that tried to convince him to shag them, even asked two policemen, but Paul seemed to have vanished. He had asked at the Seamen’s Mission, at several all night bars and clubs, but it had all been in vain. 

He leaned his body against a wall, sliding down it to sit down on the cold ground. He curled himself up in a ball, his arms encircling his knees and started sobbing. After a while he felt a hand touching his shoulder. He looked up to see the face of an old, probably homeless woman. “Bist du in Ordnung?” she asked. John wiped his tears “I don’t speak German very well” She smiled at him, showing an almost toothless mouth. “Ah English! I speak little. You okay? You have Deutsch Marks?”

Her broken English didn’t prevent her from asking for money, but John guessed that if you were homeless, that would be the first sentence to learn in any language. He shook his head, he didn’t bring his wallet after all. “You English boys no money ever. Other one also had no Deutsch Marks.”

Other one? _Other one?!_ John’s senses were suddenly on high alert “Other one? Did you say “other one”? Did you see another English boy?” John stood up and grabbed the woman’s arms. “Come on woman, _talk to me!_ Did you meet another English boy?” The woman tried to wriggle out of John’s grip. “Ja, other boy, sehr schöner Junge, groβe Augen!” 

A beautiful English boy with big eyes! It had to be Paul! “Where did you see him! _Think woman!_ Wo hast you him gesehen?” John tried in broken German. He kept shaking the woman, trying desperately to get an answer. “Im Park. Er war im Park” she pointed in the direction of the park. John let go of her arms. “Thank you, thank you, Danke!”

He started running towards the park, anxious to find Paul. It was a rather large park though, and John ran from bench to bench. They were all occupied by dirty, elderly homeless men and the occasional woman, lying underneath newspapers or old blankets, surrounded by empty beer and Schnapps bottles. God, imagine having to live like that! 

Suddenly he came across a bench that wasn’t surrounded by empty bottles. The person lying on it didn’t resemble a dirty old man. Moonlight caressed delicate features, making the face look angelic. Cuddled up beneath a newspaper, eyes closed, messy dark hair.……Paul! In less than a second John stood beside the bench looking down at Paul. _His Paul._ His beautiful boy. He was alive and well! 

John felt so relieved and wanted to shake him awake. But his hand stilled in mid-air. What if Paul didn’t want to see him, what if he was still angry at him? He probably was, otherwise he would have come home, wouldn’t he? Could John deal with being rejected? Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now he had to wake Paul up and take him home, get him warmed up. He must be freezing! His hand softly touched Paul’s forehead, pushing away a dark strand of hair. “Paul?” 

***

An old, homeless woman had come up to him asking him for money “Deutsch Marks bitte, mein junger Mann, ich habe Hunger.” Paul had pretended he didn’t understand her, telling her he was English, but he had understood very well. She wanted money because she was hungry. Well _join the club,_ lady. As he tried to get warm underneath his newspaper, which obviously didn’t work very well, and trying to ignore his rumbling stomach, he considered going back to their room. He didn’t _have_ to talk to John if he didn’t want to, right? He could just _ignore_ him. At least he would have a warm bed to sleep in.

He could smack himself around the head for forgetting to bring his wallet when he had walked out on John. At least he would have been able to get something to eat. Man what he would do for a plate full of sizzling sausages and scrambled eggs. Topped with lots of bacon. And toast with butter and marmalade. And a steaming cup of tea. His stomach rumbled loudly. Maybe not the best things to think about when you had an empty stomach and an empty pocket. He closed his eyes and suddenly felt a tear running down his cheek. Why had his life taken such a terrible turn? What was he going to do without John? 

He had finally managed to fall asleep when he was suddenly awoken by something touching his forehead. Startled he opened his eyes, was someone attacking him? “Paul?” He couldn’t see the person touching him, it was too dark to see, but he’d recognize that voice anywhere. “John?” “Yeah, don’t worry baby, it’s only me.” 

Paul tried to focus, struggling to see the man’s face. ”John, what are you doing here?” John pushed away another string of hair from his forehead. “Felt like taking a walk in the park.” Paul chuckled. “In the middle of the night?” “Yeah, I’ve heard it does wonders for your health.” 

“And since when is keeping healthy high on your priority list, then?” He sat up straight on the park bench and John sat down beside him. “Since some boyfriend of mine decided to sleep outdoors for two nights, testing if newspapers provide the same warmth as blankets do. Paul, you have _no idea_ how relieved I am to have found you, baby, I’ve been _so worried_ about you!” 

Paul shivered. “You’ve been worried about me?” John put his arm around his shoulders, hugging him to his side. “Of course I’ve been worried. You didn’t show up at the Kaiser Keller, then you didn’t come home at night. I had no idea where you were! _Anything_ could have happened to you! _Please_ don’t ever run off like that again?” 

Paul cuddled closer to John, relishing the body heat of the man, warming up his ice cold body. “I had to get out of there, John, or I would have said something that I might have lived to regret. I just was so angry at you! The things you said to me……” 

John kissed his hair. “I know, darling, I know I’m a bloody bastard, I said some unforgivable things. I was just so mad at Stu leaving the band like that, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry, love. Can you forgive me?” Paul sighed and asked in a small voice “Did you mean it though? When you said I wasn’t a good guitarist?” “Of course I didn’t mean it! You’re a far better guitarist than me!” 

“Then why did you tell me to take over on bass, then? Is that the best place for me, is that where my talent is displayed at its best?” “It was just meant to be for the time we have left here, since Stu resigned and we needed a bass player, not _permanently!_ We can find a new bass player when we return to Liverpool of course.”

Paul looked at John, trying to catch his eyes. “Then why didn’t you just _ask_ me, then? Instead of _ordering_ me? Like you’re my boss or something. I thought we were _equals,_ I _know_ we are equals! I don’t want to be bossed around by you, I hate being bossed around! We make all decisions for the band _together,_ we always have, and yet you suddenly feel like you can tell me what to do. I’m not just a _sideman,_ you know, I’m your _partner,_ John, for heaven’s sake!” 

“I know, Paul, I know, I shouldn’t have done that. And _of course_ you’re not just a side man. _Of course_ we’re partners, _of course_ we’re equals. It’s just……I was so angry and upset about Stu finding out about us and leaving the band, I wasn’t thinking straight.” John grabbed his face in his hands. _“Please,_ Paul, come back with me. If you don’t want to play the bass, that’s okay, you don’t have to. But at least sing with me again. Being on stage without you by my side just sucks.”

Paul stroked John’s cheek softly. “I will play the bass until we return to Liverpool. But I’m _not_ gonna stand in the back, John.” John kissed him softly on the lips. “Of course you’ll be up front with me, baby, as always.” “Just promise me you’ll never tell me what to do like that again, John, I won’t have that! Look at me John, _promise me,_ I’m really serious, I want to hear you say you won’t treat me like your side man ever again! If you want to be the leader of our band to the outside world, that’s okay by me, but you’ll never be _my_ leader!” 

John cupped his cheeks, kissed him again and whispered “I promise you, baby, I will _never_ order you to do anything ever again for as long as I live. Now will you come back home with me, you’re freezing, love.” Paul nodded silently, stood up from the park bench and grabbed John’s hand. “Let’s go home, Johnny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Paul decided to play bass for the time being. But will he be able to do so?


	31. FEVER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> So Paul's back. But sleeping out in the cold for two nights didn't do wonders for his health........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

When they arrived at their room it was almost dawn. Paul was shivering all over. John was worried about him. He looked so pale and felt so cold. “Come on, love, let’s get you out of these clothes and get you into bed.” Paul’s feverish eyes met his. “I’d rather keep my clothes on, I’m so cold.” John took off Paul’s leather jacket and tried to get the shirt off of the boy’s shivering body. “That’s exactly why you should get these cloths off, love. The best way to warm up is skin-to-skin contact.” 

He started to unbutton Paul’s jeans, then pulled him down, followed by his underwear. “Johnny, I don’t think.…..” Paul started saying. “Shhh, baby, it’s okay, just go lie on the bed, alright?” Paul wanted to climb on the upper bunk bed, but John stopped him. “No, love, my bed.” He smiled at Paul’s surprised look “But John…...Oh God I’m c-c-c-cold.” John threw back the blanket and steered Paul into his bed. 

Paul reluctantly lay down on John’s bed, shivering all over. John looked at the naked young man and felt a stirring in his groin. My Lord, the guy was gorgeous! He gave himself a mental shake, though. This was not the time to think about sex, he had to warm Paul up! He quickly got rid of his own clothes, grabbed the blanket from Paul’s bed, lay down next to him and covered them both with the two blankets. 

They were lying on their sides, facing each other, and John pulled the trembling body close to him, making sure to have skin contact, entwining their arms and legs, chests pressed against each other, as well as their cocks. John felt his cock stir, but willed his arousal down. Not now Lennon, just make sure he’s warm. 

He felt Paul’s head resting on his shoulder, and kissed the boy’s hair. “Just try to get some sleep, love, I’ll keep you warm” he whispered in the dark hair. Paul sighed deeply “Thanks, Johnny.” John kissed his hair again. A feeling of deep relieve washed over him. Paul was back, lying safely in his arms. He was _never_ gonna let him go again. 

***

George poked Pete’s arm. “Pete, wake up” he whispered, “Paul’s back.” Pete turned his back to George. “Good, tonight’s show’s gonna be a lot better then. Now let me go back to sleep.” George poked him again. “Pete, you’ve gotta see this, come on, wake up!” Pete turned around to face George. “What do you want me to see?” George pointed in the direction of the other bunk bed.

The upper bed, Paul’s bed, was empty, but on the lower bed..…..”Fuck, why are they sleeping together? And, I don’t know, but does it look like they’re not wearing their pyjama’s?” He pointed at naked arm and a naked leg peeping out of the blankets. “And why are they holding each other like that?”

George shrugged. “I was wondering that myself. It looks kind of…….kind of……rather…...intimate?” George frowned. “Rather weird, isn’t it?” He walked over to the other bed, now poking John, whose back was turned to him and whose nose was buried in the thick, dark hair that belonged to Paul. Paul, whose head was lying comfortably on John’s shoulder. “Hey Lennon, wake up!”

John stirred, but didn’t wake up. He did mumbled something in his sleep, that sounded suspiciously like “No time to wake up yet, baby, just go back to sleep, love.” George chuckled. “Well, I don’t think I’ve ever been called, “baby” and “love” by another man before, certainly not by you, Lennon. Who do you think I am? Some pretty bird you met last night? Well I’ve got news for you, mate. Not only are you talking to me, but the pretty bird in your bed is actually _Paul!”_

John’s eyes suddenly flew open and he turned his head to see George standing on the side of his bed. “George!” “The one and only, mate! I see you’ve found Paul, but what the hell is he doing in your bed? And without his pyjama’s on? And……Jesus Christ! You’re not wearing anything either!” George exclaimed, as John suddenly jumped out of the bed stark naked. “Shhh, George, you’ll wake up Paul!”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, John, cover up, will you?” John grabbed the sheet from Paul’s bed and wrapped it around his waist. “Why the hell are you two lying in bed together in the nude?” Pete asked from his bed on the other side of the small room. “I’ve found Paul in the park last night, sleeping on a bench. He’s been sleeping outside in the cold for the second night in a row, and he was absolutely freezing! He was shivering all over and he needed to be warmed up. And I’ve read somewhere that the best way to warm somebody up is by skin-to-skin contact.” 

John looked down at Paul, who was still asleep in his bed, mouth slightly ajar, face still pale, but with a blush on his cheeks. Did he look feverish? He bent over to feel Paul’s forehead. “Shit, I think he’s running a fever!” George stepped up beside John, and looked at Paul, who was frowning in his sleep. “He does look feverish, doesn’t he?” George also felt Paul’s forehead. “Shit, John, he’s really burning up!” They heard a groan coming from Pete. “Oh shit, so he we’ll have to perform without him again tonight!” 

***

Paul’s world seemed to be in a haze when he woke up and viewed his surroundings through his long eyelashes. Where the hell was he? He wasn’t on the park bench for sure. He suddenly remembered last night. John had come to look for him in the park and had taken him home. He had been so cold. And John had put him to bed. John’s bed. Feeling John’s arms around him, feeling his warm skin……it had felt heavenly. But John wasn’t there now.

Paul opened his eyes a bit wider to find Pete, George and John sitting together on Stu’s bed. Since Stu slept at Astrid’s his bed had been empty, but none of them had considered sleeping in it. He tried to sit up, but his head was spinning, he felt dizzy and dropped his head back on the pillow with a soft groan. God he felt terrible! Cold sweat seemed to be covering his entire body and he started shivering uncontrollably. He heard John’s voice call out his name “Paul! Paul are you alright?” John’s voice sounded worried, but far away, fading away into a thick fog that seemed to surround Paul. He closed his eyes and then everything went black.

***

Hands on his body, touching him, feeling him up. Voices. _Several voices_. He couldn’t move. He panicked, why couldn’t he move? He tried to see who the voices belonged to. But he couldn’t see a single thing. Had he suddenly gone blind? Or did someone put out the lights? He became aware that he was lying on a bed, naked. Why was he naked? Suddenly hands were pushing his thighs apart and he panicked even more. He wanted to push those hands away, but his arms couldn’t move. They were stretched out above his head and there was something cutting his wrists. He tried in vain to open his eyes, but it seemed that something was covering them. 

The hands kept touching him, several pair of hands, feeling between his legs, fingers trying to enter him. He heard the voices again, but couldn’t hear what they were saying. He started moving his legs around, kicking at the faceless voices, kicking at the intrusive hands. “No, stop it! I don’t want to! Stop! No!” Hands were gripping his arms, gripping his legs, voices calling his name. “Paul! Paul, calm down, please calm down! Everything’s alright, calm down!” Paul suddenly stopped moving. Was that John? 

***

They had been sitting on the bed, quietly talking as not to disturb Paul. All of a sudden they heard moans coming from Paul’s bed. All three of them turned their heads in Paul’s direction to see him tossing and turning on the bed, his face distressed. John was at the young man’s side in a second. “Paul? Calm down, everything’s alright.”

He touched Paul’s forehead feeling the boy was still burning up. “Still feverish” he told George and Pete, who now stood beside Paul as well. As he stroked Paul’s cheek, Paul’s movements became more distressed, he started to swirl his arms around, and John had to hold them in order to prevent Paul from hurting himself and them, grabbing Paul’s wrists. 

However, that only resulted in Paul getting more frantic, kicking his legs around, almost falling out of the bed in the process. George and Pete held on to his legs as John kept a firm hold on his wrists. Paul started to cry out “No, stop it! I don’t want to! Stop! No!” John looked at Pete and George, worry written all over his face as he tried to calm Paul down with reassuring words. What the hell was happening? Suddenly Paul stopped kicking and wriggling. The pale face with the feverish blush frowned as a soft distressed voice asked “John?” 

***

Paul’s eyes fluttered open. His view was a little hazy, but there he was: John. He closed his eyes again and sighed deeply. He felt a hand gently brushing away some lose strands of hair from his forehead. He opened his eyes again. His view was a little clearer now. Definitely John. “John” he whispered. “Yeah, it’s me, love, how are you feeling?” How was he feeling? Tired, hot and cold at the same time, sweaty, wrung out, slightly confused.

Had he been dreaming? He had felt hands all over his body, men, trying to…....But John was here. He must have been dreaming. “Paul, can you hear me?” Oh, John had been talking to him, but his mind hadn’t registered that, it was still filled with the thoughts of that horrible dream. “Yeah, Johnny, I can hear you.” 

He struggled to keep his eyes open. God, he was tired. And thirsty. _Very thirsty._ He tried to sit up, but John gently pushed him down again. “Just stay put, Macca, no need to get up.” “I’m thirsty” his voice cracked a bit as he looked John in the eyes. John looked…….worried. Why was he worried? He heard John ask somebody to get him a glass of water and as John helped him sit up a bit (God, did he really need help to sit up?), George handed him a glass of water. So George was here as well. From the corner of his eyes he saw another figure. Pete. Slowly his mind started putting the pieces together.

The Beatles. Hamburg. Stu leaving the band. Arguing with John. A park bench. Cold, so cold. John’s arms around him, warming him up. The Kaiser Keller. _The Kaiser Keller?_ Shit! “What time is it?” he asked urgently, trying to sit up straighter. “What time it is? Why do you ask?” “How long before we have to get on?” John raised his eyebrows. “Get on? What do you mean, get on? Like getting on stage?” Paul nodded “Yeah, how long before we have to get on stage? I want to take a shower first, I feel so sweaty.”

“Go on stage?” George asked _“Go on stage?_ Paul you’re _not_ going on stage! You’re in no shape at all to go on stage. You’re going to _stay in bed_ and get well first, man!” John hummed in agreement. “George is right, you’re in no condition to perform tonight, you’re burning up, love. Can’t have you collapsing on us in front of the audience, can we now?” He felt John trying to push him down on the pillow again, but Paul resisted. “No, I have to get up, I have to perform! I’ve already let you guys down for two nights, I’m not gonna let you down for a third!” 

He struggled to get out of bed, but John stopped him. “Listen to me, Paul. It’s still early, we still have several hours till show time. I suggest you stay in bed, get some more sleep, and maybe by tonight you’ll feel well enough to perform, we’ll see, okay? Just go back to sleep now. I promise I’ll wake you up in time, love, right now you need to sleep.” Paul stopped his struggling to get up and rested his head on his pillow. _Sleep._ Yes, sleep would be good. He was so tired, so exhausted. He sighed deeply, closed his eyes and soon he was vast asleep. 

***

“He can’t go on stage tonight. He’s too sick, his fever’s running too high. The stupid git slept out in the cold for two nights! He didn’t even have his overcoat, just slept under a newspaper. And all because we had a little argument. He can be so….…so……..stubborn sometimes, and so……so……. _touchy._ Yeah touchy, that’s it. _Touchy._ Really acts like a bird sometimes.”

George chuckled. “A bird with a beard then” he said, pointing at the stubble on Paul’s face. The young man hadn’t shaved for two days of course and he had a very heavy beard growth. “Funny isn’t it” Pete joined in “that somebody with, well let’s face it, somebody with such feminine features sports such a heavy beard and such hairy arms and legs.” 

John frowned at Pete’s words. “You think his features are _feminine?_ I agree he’s bloody handsome, but _feminine?_ I don’t think he looks feminine. _Androgynous_ maybe, but certainly not _feminine.”_ Pete shrugged. “Whatever, not very _masculine_ though, except for the facial hair. Sometimes I think….…” John was on high alert now. “What? What do you think sometimes?” Pete bit his bottom lip, not sure if he should express his thoughts. “Well, just sometimes I wonder if he actually might be queer.”

“He’s _definitely_ not queer, Pete, I’ve known him like…...like……forever, since when we were kids, and I would _certainly_ know if he was.” George reacted irritated to Pete’s words, but John felt very uneasy, both about Pete’s accusation as to George’s denial. “Well, let’s at least make sure he stays in bed, and let’s not wake him up if we’re off to the Kaiser Keller. We’ve played two nights without him, and although we really suck without him, I’m sure we can manage another night.” 

***

Paul woke up from a dreamless sleep, feeling hungry. His rumbling stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten for some time. As a matter of fact he hadn’t eaten since he had left the room after his argument with John, which was now something like two days ago. Longer? What time was it anyway? His eyes tried to focus on his wristwatch, which was apparently the only thing he was wearing, he discovered when he lifted up the blanket to look at his watch.

Ten o’clock. In the morning of course. Funny the others weren’t in. They usually didn’t get up before eleven. He got out of bed, wrapping the blanket around him. God he still felt cold. He wondered where John had gotten off to. He missed the warmth of his arms around him. Trying to get to the bathroom for a pee, he had to grab a hold of the bunk bed, because he was really wobbly. Must be the empty stomach. As he managed to find his way through the small room without falling down, he passed the window. Dark outside. _Dark? At ten in the morning?_

And suddenly he realized it wasn’t morning at all, it was _ten at night!_ Fuck! John had promised him to wake him up in time for tonight’s show, but obviously he didn’t keep his promise. Paul had slept the entire day away and the guys had gone off to the Kaiser Keller without him. Damn, he was supposed to play with them, he told them he was not going to let them down again! 

He quickly went for a pee and a shower. The warm water hitting his body felt good, it made him feel a bit better, but his stomach was still empty. He dressed himself in his usual leather stage outfit and made his way downstairs, grabbing the stair railing to prevent himself from falling down the stairs. His legs were really shaky, but he managed to get out on the street. On his way to the Kaiser Keller, he grabbed a quick bite to eat. It didn’t taste very well, but it made him feel a bit steadier on his feet.

He entered the Kaiser Keller, being greeted by Horst, the club’s bouncer. “Hallo Paulie, bist du wieder gesund? Kannst du wieder spielen? Das Publikum wird sich freuen dich zu sehen, die Gruppe ist nicht sehr gut ohne dich.” Paul nodded and smiled at Horst, who might look like a giant, but a very friendly one. Paul’s German was good enough by now to understand what the man was saying. 

“Yeah, I’m well enough to perform Horst, Danke. You really think the audience will be glad to see me again? The band can’t be that bad without me.” Host nodded in the direction of the stage, where John, George and Pete were performing. “Hören Sie selbst.” Paul listened to his friends and cringed. Horst was right, they didn’t exactly sound very well. “I’ll better go and join them then. Thanks Horst.”

Paul walked up to the side of the stage, where he saw Stu’s bass guitar standing. He grabbed the instrument and jumped on stage. John turned to him in surprise and whispered “What are you doing here Paul? You’re supposed to be in bed, you’re not well enough to perform!” Paul was tuning the bass and responded “I’m supposed to be on stage with you guys, John, you’ve promised to wake me up in time! And I’m feeling a lot better now, so I’m sure I’ll be able to play. Did you know you guys sound pretty awful without me? I’m surprised the audience haven’t booed you off stage yet.” 

He looked at George and Pete “Come on guys, let’s do “Long Tall Sally” He turned to the microphone, smiled at the audience, reacting to some of the girls calling out his name in excitement “Im gonna tell aunt Mary, ’bout uncle John……”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They'll be going back to Liverpool in the next chapter. And what will happen then?


	32. BACK HOME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> The Beatles leave Hamburg, leaving Stu behind, but with a new bass player. And back in Liverpool some visits are paid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

They had packed their things and were all ready to go. Back to Liverpool after their ten weeks stay in Hamburg. A lot had happened, Stu had left the band and Paul had spent the last two weeks playing bass temporary. Much to Paul’s own surprise he actually liked playing the instrument so much, he decided to become the band’s _permanent_ bass player. 

That had surprised John a lot, after their argument a little over two weeks ago. But he decided not to say anything about it, and when Paul had asked him to come along to a music store two days before their return, to see if he could buy his own bass, he had willingly come along. 

Paul had found a bass he could afford, a Höffner violin shaped bass. It was a right handed one of course, since they didn’t have any left handed ones available, but Paul was happy with it. He could turn the instrument around and change the strings without the instrument looking funny. 

They had finished their cornflakes and were waiting for the van to come and Stu, Astrid, Jürgen and Klaus to arrive, who were going to wave them goodbye. John felt a little blue. Leaving home for Liverpool without Stu after such a long friendship, felt weird. Of course they had promised to stay in touch and of course Stu would come home every now and then to see his family and then they could meet up as well, but still……

And then there was the knowledge that Stu knew about him and Paul. He hadn’t figured out yet what Stu’s feelings about that were. He wondered if Stu thought of him as disgusting now. They hadn’t really talked about it after Stu had told him he had seen the two of them together. His eyes wandered over to Paul. The enchanting young man was talking to George, both boys eager to go back home, longing to see their families. John sighed. Was he eager to go back home? Part of him wasn’t. It wasn’t exactly like he was longing to see Mimi again, although he would certainly pay her a visit. And he was leaving Stu behind. But going home also meant he would be living with Paul again, that he could sleep with his lover again in the privacy of their home. He certainly longed for _that._

He had really missed holding Paul in bed at night. Missed his scent, his skin, his arms around him. So, yes, it was good to get back home. Paul laughed at something George had said, and once again, like so many times before, John was mesmerized by the sound of that voice, by the way Paul’s face would light up when he laughed. 

“If you keep staring at him like that, it won’t be long till the others get suspicious and start to put two and two together, John.” A soft voice whispered beside him. Stu. John turned to look at him. “Stu! You came!” Stu chuckled. “Of course I came, John. I promised I would. Besides, I want to make sure you’re really leaving. Knowing you, you would probably stay behind secretly and then suddenly jump out in front of me, just to scare the living daylights out of me!” John grinned widely. “Yeah that’s certainly something I would do, except for the fact I’m not staying behind without Paul.” 

Stu shook his head. “Still _totally_ besotted with him, aren’t you? I won’t lie to you, John, I still don’t understand it, and I’m not sure I ever will, but If you really do love him.…..” I do!” “.....like you say you do, and if he makes you happy, then who am I to say anything about it? After all, I know what it’s like to be madly in love and do anything for your lover, like staying in Hamburg.” “I still don’t understand why it has to be _Paul,_ why it has to be a _man,_ but, well if that’s what you really want….,.” “It is!” “......then I wish you all the best, John. Just please be careful, make sure people don’t find out, I don’t want to see you end up in jail.” John sighed “It’s hard Stu, having to hide your love away, whilst you really want to shout it from the rooftop. But we’ll be careful, I promise. Thanks for being so understanding. Means a lot to me.”

***

From the corner of his eye, Paul saw John talking to Stu. Knowing that Stu had seen them making out, making love, made him feel uneasy. But then again he’d always felt uneasy around Stu because of his jealousy at the man’s friendship with John. Well, better get yourself together, McCartney, and pretend nothing’s wrong. You have to return his bass guitar to him anyway.

He walked over to where John and Stu were standing, holding the guitar case in his hand. “Hey Stu, really nice of you to come out here so early in the morning to wave us goodbye.” Stu turned to him, his eyes wandering up and down Paul’s body after resting upon Paul’s eyes. It made Paul feel very uncomfortable, but he smiled anyway. 

“I’ve got your bass here, thanks for lending it to me.” Stu nodded, taking over the guitar case from him. “You’re welcome. John told me you bought your own bass, so you’re gonna take over my position in the band for real now? Well you’ll probably be great at it, seeing as you always told me how to play.” If it was a compliment, it didn’t feel like that to Paul. More like a stabbing. 

“John, where’s your guitar case? We’re loading the van, but I can’t seem to find your guitar!” Pete called out to them. “Coming!” John called back. Then Paul saw John turning to Stu once more and give him a fierce hug, before walking towards the waiting van. And once again jealousy reared its ugly head.

“So, happy to go back to Liverpool, then?” Stu asked him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m looking forward to seeing my dad and Mike again. I’ve never been parted from them for so long.” Stu looked at him thoughtfully. “Still daddy’s boy, aren’t you? I’m still surprised he let you come to Hamburg with the rest of us.” Paul felt offended. “I’m not “daddy’s boy”. I’m my own man, I make my own decisions!”

Stu let out a small chuckle. “O yeah, I forgot, you’re not _daddy’s boy_ anymore, you’re _Johnny’s boy_ now, aren’t you?” Paul felt like smacking him in the face, but he managed to control himself. “You’ve got a problem with that, Stu. If you do, just say so.” 

Stu looked him in the eyes. “I don’t have a problem with it, Paul, as long as John’s happy. But I can’t see him being happy with someone as shallow and empty-headed as you. Yeah, you’ve got a pretty face, and John most certainly is someone who wants to try everything at least once, so a homosexual experiment isn’t a strange thing for him. But he seems to think he’s _in love_ with you. And I’m afraid it will break his heart if he sees you for who you really are. And since I don’t want to see him get hurt, I would prefer if you put an end to this charade right now, and stop this ridiculous thing between the two of you.”

Paul couldn’t believe his ears. Stu wasn’t only insulting him by telling he was _shallow_ (which he most certainly wasn’t!) but had the audacity to tell him to _end his relationship_ with John? “You don’t know _anything_ about me and John! It’s not a charade! I happen to be in love with him as well and I will do _everything_ in my power to make him happy. I will _never_ hurt him! And I most certainly will not end our relationship because _you_ say so. You don’t know me at all! I love him and he makes me happy. We belong together in a way that’s impossible for your narrow mind to understand. And if you can’t deal with us being in love, than that’s your problem! We love each other, we’re _soulmates,_ nothing and nobody in this world can keep us apart, most certainly not _you!”_

Paul turned around and wanted to walk away, before he couldn’t control himself anymore. He felt like killing Stu! But before he managed to take a step in the direction of the van, towards John’s secure presence, he felt a hand grab his arm. “Paul, stop!” He turned back to Stu, “What!?” 

Stu smiled at him. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Paul looked at him, totally confused. What on earth did he mean by that? “I wanted to hear you say you love him and you’ll make him happy. Because I don’t want him to get hurt if those feelings he obviously has for you, aren’t reciprocated. He’s madly in love with you, you know. But since it seems the feelings are mutual, I think I can be at peace with your relationship. Who am I to stand in the way of true love?” 

Paul was completely flabbergasted. Did Stu just give him and John his blessing? Not that he needed his blessing, but still…...”Okay…….eh, thank you, I suppose……yeah, thank you.” He gave Stu a weak smile. “He really means the world to me, you know.” Stu nodded. “I can see that now. Just…….just be careful, alright? Don’t let anyone walk into you two “song writing” okay?” 

He gave Paul a naughty smile. “Although I must say, the two of you look rather hot when you’re song writing together!” Stu walked off to the van to say goodbye to the others, leaving Paul standing there, bewildered and slightly embarrassed.

***

They arrived home late at night. They hoisted up their bags and instruments and plopped down on the couch feeling totally exhausted after their long journey home. The sea had been rather rough and John had become seasick, vomiting all over Paul’s shoes.

“God, I’m so glad to be on solid ground again! I can’t believe you didn’t get sick.” Paul laughed out loud. “Yeah, you’d think that being the son of a sailor would have given you sea legs, but maybe it just skips a generation!” “Ha, ha, ha, very funny Macca! But seriously, I’m glad to be home. At least I can do this now.” 

John wrapped his arm around Paul’s shoulder, hugging him close, and pecking him on his cheek. Paul’s face turned towards him and that breathtaking smile was directed his way, causing butterflies to occupy John’s stomach. “Yeah, or this.” Paul wrapped his arms around his neck and his lips softly touched John’s. They stared in each other’s eyes for a long time, smiling at each other, their arms wrapped around each other. And then their lips met again in a heated kiss as their hands started roaming each other’s bodies. 

Soon they found themselves in their own bed, naked and aroused. “Oh baby, I want you, I want you so bad, it’s driving me mad!” John moaned as Paul kissed his neck and entwined their legs. Those endlessly long, very hairy, delicious legs. It felt divine. He grabbed Paul’s arse, that perfect, round, firm arse he loved so much. He squeezed the naked flesh, as he licked Paul’s earlobe, causing his lover to moan deeply “Johnny, oh Johnny, feels so good.” 

He could feel Paul’s hard on stir, which in return caused John’s cock to stir, and they started rubbing their erections together. It felt amazing. Part of him wanted to go down on Paul, but he was too exhausted from the long journey to do so. But it didn’t really matter. Their hard, naked cocks were touching, moving, rubbing, sliding, and knowing they could do this without the risk of being disturbed, felt liberating and exciting. 

Soon he felt his climax approaching and from the way Paul’s body suddenly stiffened, he knew Paul was there too. He groaned deeply, called out Paul’s name over and over again “Paul, Paul, Paul, Paul, Paul, oh fuck Paul!” and spilled his cum between their bodies as he felt Paul do the same. Paul moaning his name in ecstasy sounded like a symphony to him. He was sure it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. 

They laid in each other’s arms, panting, exhausted, slowly coming down from their high, as John’s thumb kept stroking Paul’s upper arm, his nose nuzzling the dark, silky hair. Sometimes John thought that lying in each other arms like this, after reaching their climax, was even better than the climax itself. There was nothing to prove, nothing to gain, nothing to strive for, nothing to give, nothing to take, just being together, feeling whole. “I love you, Paul.”  


***

A ray of sunlight touching his face awoke Paul. For a moment he didn’t know where he was. Then he remembered: home. They hadn’t closed the curtains last night, their urge to make love too big to bother about that. Now the sun was up and shone through the window on his face. And John’s. The man was laying next to him, his naked body pressed to Paul’s, their legs entwined, arms around each other. He was still vast asleep and Paul took in his features.

His face was totally relaxed, he looked so soft, not at all like the cheeky Teddy-Boy he pretended to be during the day. Paul was sure he could look at him for hours when John slept. The sun shining on his auburn hair made it look like a reddish gold. God, he was beautiful! And for the first time in ten weeks they had slept in each other’s arms again, after making love like their lives depended on it. Paul sighed contently. This is what he wanted from life. Just being with John made him feel whole.

Paul never wanted to leave the bed again, but damn, he had to take a pee! Carefully he tried to untangle his body from John’s without waking him up. He managed to get out of bed, but on his way to the bedroom door a voice behind him said “Stop right there! You know, I think your naked arse is absolutely the best view in _the whole world,_ I could look at it forever.” Paul grinned and wanted to turn around but John told him to stay put. “Don’t turn around, babe, I want to enjoy the view a little longer. Hey, you know what? I think I want to draw you!” 

Paul looked over his shoulder to meet John’s eyes. _“Draw me?”_ John nodded fiercely and jumped out of bed. “Yeah, draw you! You’d make a gorgeous model, love, I really want to draw you in the nude! Wait here, I’m gonna get my sketch book and pencils! Oh man, I feel so inspired!” Paul’s eyebrows almost flew of his forehead. “I’m not a model, John, certainly not a nude model. And by the way, I really need a pee, so if you don’t mind, I’m off to the bathroom.” He walked out of the bedroom, leaving John behind, muttering to himself. “Drawing me in the nude? He’s gotta be joking!”

But when he came back to the bedroom, it became clear John hadn’t been joking. He sat on their bed cross legged and stark naked, sketchbook and pencil on his lap. “Come on love, stand in front of the window, turn your left side to me, and face the wall” Paul frowned. “John, don’t be ridiculous, I’m not gonna model for you in the nude!” John stood up from the bed and started placing Paul in the position he wanted. “Baby, you’ve got a gorgeous body, I really, like really, _really_ want to draw you! Come on love, it’s not like I’m a stranger, I have seen you naked before, you know!” 

Paul bit his bottom lip. “But John……” “No buts, baby, just stand like this, yes that’s perfect. Now don’t move!” John returned to sit on the bed, leaving Paul standing there, completely flabbergasted. How did he manage to get himself in this situation? 

***

Next Saturday, Paul had gone off to see his dad. He was excited to see him again. “I really missed him John! You’d think that as you grow older, you’d stop feeling homesick, stop missing your parents, but I can’t wait to see him! And Mike as well, he might be an annoying little brother, but I’m dying to see him and tell him all about Hamburg!”

John shook his head. He’d never understood Paul’s dedication to his father and brother. “I hope you don’t mean to tell them _everything_ about Hamburg, love. Your dad would die of a heart attack if he knew about some of the things his precious son did there.” 

Paul chuckled. “Well, I won’t tell him about our “song writing” and I’ll leave out the prellies, so don’t worry. So are you coming with me?” John thought for a moment. Part of him wanted to come, because, well, because he just wanted Paul by his side every minute of the day. But if Paul went to visit Jim and Mike on his own, he himself could do what he had intended to do ever since Hamburg. Visiting Steve and Dusty for some much needed advice on……sex matters.

***

Dusty opened the door. “John! I didn’t know you were back from Hamburg already! Good to see you, come in, come in! Paul not with you?” Dusty hugged him and looked behind him to see if Paul was there. “We came back two days ago. Paul’s off to see his dad and Mike, but I wanted to see you guys.” Steve appeared behind Dusty. _“See us?_ Well we’re flattered, John. Come on in, I’ll put the kettle on.” He gave John a fierce hug and the three men entered the living room, Steve disappearing to the kitchen to make them a cup of tea.

“So how was Hamburg, then?” Dusty asked after sitting down on the couch, with John taking the armchair. “Good, good. We played a lot, didn’t have much time to see the sights, if there are any that is. Stu left the band to stay in Germany with his girlfriend though, and Paul and I had a little falling out about that, but we’re okay now. He’s taken over as bass player, got himself a whole new bass before we left for home.”

Steve entered the room carrying a tray with tree teacups. “So to what do we owe the pleasure of you coming to visit us then? Didn’t you want to go with Paul to his dad’s?” John sipped his tea, so much better than the tea in Germany! He had come to the conclusion only the Brits knew how to make a good cuppa. 

“No, I didn’t want to go to Jim’s. I wanted to see you guys, because I need some advice.” Dusty raised his eyebrows. “Advice? Advice on what then?” John cleared his throat. “I want some advice on…….how to……..what the best way is…….you know……advice on…...how shall I put it?......Fucking someone up the arse......”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how will Dusty and Steve react to John's question? Read the next chapter to find out!


	33. A PROPOSITION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Dusty and Steve give John some advice. And then John makes a proposition to Paul......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul had loved seeing his dad and Mike again. Man, how much he had missed them! His dad had given him a fierce hug, telling him how glad he was to see him home again, all safe and sound. Paul had relished the hug, his dad’s arms around him made him feel at home. 

Mike had been thrilled to see him and after a humongous hug he had asked Paul dozens of questions about Hamburg. Where did they play? Did the audience like them? What were their sleeping quarters like? How was the food? Was the pay any good? Did he meet any pretty birds? 

“Stop it, Mike!” his dad had called out to his younger son. “Paul can’t get a word in!” Paul laughed. “It’s okay, dad, I like telling him about Hamburg, it was such an amazing experience.” “I’m sure it was, son, I’m sure it was. By the way, why didn’t John come with you? You were always showing up with him before you went to Hamburg. Almost like the two of you were attached to the hip, the way you were always together. I hope you guys didn’t have a falling out?” 

Paul felt himself blush a little. “He wanted to see his aunt today, so we decided on both going our own way. We don’t do _everything_ together, you know.” He took a sip of his tea and sighed contently. “You know, dad, I really missed English tea. The Germans just don’t know how to make a good cuppa.”

***

Dusty choked on his tea and went into a coughing fit. Steve knocked on his back, his loud laughter drowning out Dusty’s coughing, “Well, John, _that_ took us by surprise!” Steve managed to say. Dusty managed to catch his breath and wiped the tears from his eyes. “You can say _that_ again, Steve! I didn’t see that one coming. You could have…...kind of…...prepared us for that question somehow.”

John smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, well, I didn’t quite know how to say it, so I decided to just blurt it out. But seriously..….” John’s smile disappeared and his face became very earnest “…...I do want to know about…...you know..…..anal sex. Can’t exactly go to the library and ask for a book about it, can I now? And since you two are the only queers I know.…..” 

Steve shook his head. “I really don’t like to be called _a queer,_ John, the word is rather denigrating, I’d prefer “homosexual man”, if it’s all the same to you.” John nodded, frowning.”Yeah, I guess you’re right, it’s more like a four-letter word isn’t it?” “Only it actually is a five-letter word.” Dusty looked from John to Steve, and all three men started laughing, lightning up the rather tense atmosphere.

“So what do you want to know, and why?” Steve asked. “Yes, let’s start with the _why”_ Dusty said. _“Why_ do you want to know about anal sex?” John blushed a little. Damn, this was rather personal. Did he even _want_ to talk about such intimate stuff with others? But if he wanted to take his sexual relationship with Paul to a next level, he had to talk about it. 

“Well, I’ve been having..…..I’ve been kind of longing.…..for a while now……I’ve been wondering what it would feel like to…….to fuck Paul up the arse.” He felt his cheeks go positively crimson and kept his eyes staring firmly on his clasped hands. 

“Does Paul _know_ you want to do that?” Dusty asked. “No, no, I haven’t told him about it, I just, you know, I just want to know what to do, I mean…...I don’t want to hurt him or anything……I mean, I don’t even know if it feels good, you know…....being on the bottom.” John looked up at the two older men, with a helpless expression on his face. “I want him to want it too, I want him to enjoy it too, but I just don’t know what……just don’t know how…….I just…...don’t know…...” He was sure he had never felt so embarrassed before in his entire life.

“I’m glad you came to us, John.” Steve said reassuringly. “Because if you don’t know how to do it _right_ and don’t know what to _look for_ to make it pleasurable, it _can_ be a rather painful experience. But if it’s done in the right way, yes, it can be _extremely pleasurable,_ positively mind blowing actually, incomparable to anything you’ve _ever_ felt before. But you have to make sure that Paul wants it too, you know. It’s not something every homosexual man wants and the thought of being taken can be very scary. To some men it feels like giving away their _masculinity,_ because the man usually isn’t “on the bottom”, as you called it. It’s like giving in to the _feminine_ side of you, and not all homosexual men want that.” 

“And of course, if you’re on the bottom for the first time, there’s also the fear of pain. But it doesn’t _have_ to hurt, you know. It might feel a little bit _uncomfortable_ at first, but it certainly shouldn’t be _painful._ If you do it right, that is. What you have to keep in mind at all times are these three things: _relaxation, lubrication and preparation.”_

***

Paul returned home to an empty apartment. John wasn’t home yet, which surprised him. It was rather late, his stay with dad and Mike had been so much fun, he had lost track of time. But for John to spend so much time at his aunt’s? He started peeling some potatoes. Sausage and mash tonight. He was humming a tune that he had made up on his way home. It sounded promising to him, it could turn into a good song. As he worked, he started to make up words to go with the tune. “Someone to love, somebody new, someone to love, someone like…” 

_“You.”_ John’s voice finished the lyrics, as he wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist from behind and then kissed his cheek. “What’s for dinner, love?” Paul turned around in John’s arms and pressed a light kiss on his lips. “Sausage and mash. Didn’t hear you come in. I was surprised you weren’t home yet, must have had a nice afternoon then. How was Mimi?” 

John looked at him puzzled. “Mimi?” Paul raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, Mimi. Your aunt Mimi. The one you visited this afternoon. _That Mimi._ Do you know any other Mimis?” John chuckled. “Oh, right, me auntie! She was alright. So how long before dinner is ready?”

John was acting strangely. At least, Paul thought he was acting strangely. Maybe his visit with Mimi had not gone so well after all. She could be a bit…....blunt sometimes. Maybe she’d said something that had upset John? Maybe John needed to talk about it? Better find out if something was wrong.

“John, can you set the table, love? Dinner is ready!” John, who had been sitting on the couch reading a book that, Paul had noticed chuckling to himself, he held upside down, stood up to get the plates and cutlery as Paul put the pans on the table. 

Taking a mouthful of his perfectly made, as he thought so himself, mashed potatoes, he decided to ask John about it. “Did Mimi say something that bothered you, Johnny?” John raised his eyebrows “Why do you ask? But to answer your question: no she didn’t.” “Are you sure? You look.…..I don’t know, a bit distressed?” He looked up from his plate to meet John’s eyes. “You can tell me, you know, if she said something to upset you. I’m a good listener, you’ve told me so yourself.” Did John suddenly seem nervous? “Don’t worry, love, everything’s alright. You do make some amazing mashed potatoes, you know, best I’ve ever tasted.”

***

“Paul?” The young man cuddled up to him whispered back “Yeah?” his breath tickling his chest. “Paul, do you ever think what it would be like to..…..to.…..well to take our relationship a step further?” _“Further?_ What do you mean, further?” “Well, you know, eh......sexually?” He felt Paul’s breath on his skin again, warm and moist. _“Sexually?_ You want to take our sexual relationship a step further? In what way? You want to do it more often?”

Paul raised his head from John’s chest, where he had contently been lying after their passionate encounter, that had resulted in a most satisfying orgasm for both of them. John’s eyes met those gorgeous hazel ones that he loved so much and that now looked at him with curiosity. 

“N-no, not more often, although I wouldn’t mind _that_ either, I can never get enough of you! I mean more like, you know, differently?” _“Differently?”_ Jeez, did the boy have to repeat every word he said? “Yeah, differently. Like in other ways” _“Other ways?”_ John sighed “Could you please stop repeating everything I say? It’s very annoying when I’m trying to ask a serious question.” “Okay.” God, the boy could be so obnoxious sometimes! “I just, I’ve been wondering…….well, I’ll just say it like it is then. I would really like to fuck you up the arse.” “No!!!” 

***

Paul felt like John had just stabbed a knife in his chest. “No!!!” He suddenly sat up straight, startling John, “No! I don’t want that!” His heart was beating fast, and his breathing accelerated. “I don’t want that, no, no!” He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe! He gasped for air, his breathing fast and irregular, his vision becoming unclear. He was choking! He was going to die! Sheer panic overtook his entire being. “H-h-help me!” he managed to stammer.

He heard John’s voice, but it sounded far away and muted, like he was under water. “Calm down, Paul, calm down!” His lungs hurt, as he desperately gasped for air. “Paul! Paul! Paul!” And then everything went black. 

***

He woke up to a couple of worried eyes. Beautiful almond shaped eyes, dark and worried. John’s eyes. “Paul?” He could hear the worry in his voice too. Why was John worried? “Are you alright, love?” John caressed his cheek and pushed some loose strands of hair from his forehead. “What on earth happened, baby? You’ve got me really worried, you just passed out.”

Paul frowned and looked down at his trembling hands. Passed out? Did he pass out? Why? He remembered lying peacefully on John’s chest, feeling completely satisfied and content, John’s arm around him, and then John had said……. _Wham!_ There it was, he remembered now. John had asked him the question that he always feared would come someday. And he had a panic attack as a result of it. He had had them before, but not since he and John were together. “Paul?” John’s tentative voice made Paul look up again into John’s eyes. 

“I’m- I’m sorry John.” Paul realized his voice sounded shaky. “I didn’t mean to startle you, I don’t know what happened.” John’s eyes were still watching him worriedly. “Baby, I didn’t mean to scare you like this. I just suggested something I would like to try out, but only if _you_ want it too, love. I would _never_ force you into something you don’t want! I realize it’s a big step, and if you’re not ready for that, it’s okay, you know, we don’t have to do it _right away._ We can take our time, love, no need to be so scared.” 

Paul had listened to John intently, but his words didn’t exactly make him feel better. John still wanted to do it. Not _right away,_ maybe, but he expected Paul to submit to it _eventually._ And he didn’t want that. He _never_ wanted to feel that piercing pain again, _never!_ Not even if it was John. Never! “You don’t understand, John” he responded in a shaky voice “I don’t want it _at all, not now, not ever, not for as long as I live!_ And if you can’t accept that, then we’d better put an end to our relationship right now!” 

***

John looked at Paul in total disbelieve. “Paul! Don’t be ridiculous! I don’t want to end our relationship! I love you! Listen to me, baby, if you don’t want to engage in that kind of sex, then we won’t do it. It’s something I would like to try out, but _not_ at your expense, _not_ against your will! I had no idea it would upset you so much. I didn’t mean for you to get so upset, I was just making a _suggestion,_ you know. Please calm down, love, please calm down.”

He looked at the young man in his arms, his face still pale but with a blush on his cheeks. “It’s alright, love, it’s alright.” He kept caressing Paul’s cheeks, stroking his hair. “God, you gave me a real scare baby, for a moment I thought you were about to die on me.” He shivered as he remembered seeing Paul gasp for air, his face white as a sheet, eyes wide and scared, his lips turning blue. 

He held the boy close, rocking him back and forth. “I will _never_ do something you don’t want baby, I promise you that.” He could understand Paul being a bit scared about being fucked, he probably would be too himself, after all the idea of something being shoved up in such a tight and delicate place, the thought of the pain it might cause, yeah, that was a scary thought. That he could understand. But Paul’s reaction had been so over the top, so out of proportion…….He hadn’t expected a reaction like that at all. Paul had been completely _horrified._ So horrified he had even suggested to end their relationship. He couldn’t let that happen! He loved the boy, couldn’t imagine living without him.

“Everything’s alright, baby, everything’s fine. No need to worry, no need to be scared. Let’s just go back to sleep, alright? Paul, love?” He tried to search Paul’s eyes, but the young man kept his eyes down. He kissed his hair, the dark, thick, velvety hair, and nuzzled his nose in it. He pulled the blanket over their naked bodies, holding Paul close. “Goodnight my love.”

***

Something, or someone, punched his nose. His eyes flew open and he heard whimpering, distressed, as if in pain and fear. Then he felt his shin being kicked. The body in his arms was trying to wriggle out of his embrace, arms flying around, legs kicking. “No, no, stop it, it hurts! Stop, I don’t want it. Stop, it hurts, no!” John tried to put on the light on the nightstand, but only managed to kick it to the ground.

He tried to grab Paul’s arms, to stop him from moving, but boy, the guy was strong! “Paul! Paul, calm down, baby, you’re having a nightmare, wake up love!” He finally managed to grab Paul’s wrists, and pinned him down to the bed. That however resulted in Paul starting to cry. “S-s-stop, please, it h-h-hurts!”

Paul’s cries chilled him to the bones. There was so much pain, so much _despair_ in the voice he loved so much. “Paul, baby, please wake up! Wake up, love, wake up! It’s me, John, everything’s alright, nobody’s hurting you, honey, it’s only a dream! Wake up, love!” John was getting desperate as he couldn’t get Paul to wake up. “Paul!” 

Suddenly Paul stopped kicking and wriggling, and although it was dark in the room, John could feel Paul’s eyes upon him. “J-John?” John sighed, relieved. “Yeah, it’s me love, everything’s alright. You were having a bad dream, Do you want me to get you some water?” He felt Paul shake his head and say in a small voice “Just hold me, please, will you Johnny?” 

***

The days after that horrible night were grim and dark. It felt like a heavy blanket covered all happiness. Like all colours had faded into grey, like all sounds turned into a monotone buzz, the world felt cold and dark to Paul. He felt ashamed for the way he had reacted. What on earth must John think of him?

And he was _afraid._ So afraid that John would leave him. Leave him because he didn’t want John to fuck him, something the man obviously wanted. Leave him because he wouldn’t want such a wimp for a boyfriend. Leave him because he was..…..difficult? Living with somebody who had panic attacks and nightmares wasn’t exactly what John had signed up for. So Paul was very down, thinking any moment now, John would tell him goodbye. 

Not even _music_ could cheer him up. He went through their performances at the Cavern as on autopilot. They brought him no joy and all he really wanted was to _disappear, not to exist anymore._ John was going to leave him and he would be alone once again. He would lose the love of his life because he was a _fuckin’ wimp!_ Because he let his past rule his life. Why couldn’t he just build a bridge and cross it? Why couldn’t he just leave the past behind him and move forward? He had effectively dug his own grave by refusing John to take him. But he just couldn’t, he just couldn’t…….

During the break in their performance, he told the others he was going to the men’s room, but instead of doing so, he had left the Cavern in a hurry. His feet led him to the docks, to the water. _Dark cold water_ that would swallow him and numb his fear and pain forever. Better to end it all before John left him. Living without him was no option, his heart would break into a million pieces. And John _would_ leave him, there was no doubt about it. And he had brought it on himself. John was better off without him, he was too difficult to live with it, he knew it. 

As he stood on the quay, seeing the dark water below him, inviting him in, he whispered the name of the man he loved so much “John…...” He closed his eyes and took a step forward......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow it seems like they can't find their way somehow anymore........Will Paul take that final step? Read all about it next Friday!


	34. A BREAKDOWN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Is Paul going to jump into the water and will this be the end for John and Paul and their love story?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John had been worried about Paul the last couple of days. Ever since Paul’s breakdown a few days ago, Paul had been different. He seemed _subdued,_ not at all his usual bouncy self. Sometimes he seemed deep in thought, in his own world. Not acknowledging the people around him. The usual sparkle in his eyes was gone as well, replaced by sadness. They hadn’t made love ever since that night, Paul always saying he was tired. On stage he wasn’t himself either. Even George had noticed it.

“What’s wrong with Paul? He isn’t his usual exuberant self. Like he doesn’t really enjoy being on stage, which is weird for such a performance addict as Paul is. Did the two of you have a barney? Or is he ill or something?” John had shrugged and told George he had no idea what was wrong, but that he was sure it was only temporary, so there was nothing to worry about.

But John _was_ worried. It was like Paul was in some kind of downwards spiral, sinking away in a pool of depression. And taking in consideration Paul’s earlier attempt to take his own life, that was not a good thing. “He’s very vulnerable, John, he needs to be protected.” He remembered Steve’s words from when he had been told about Paul’s suicide attempt. He had carefully tried to ask Paul if everything was alright, to talk to him to find out if something was wrong, but the boy seemed totally clammed up and refused to talk. Better keep a good eye on him, he had told himself, not leave him alone.

So when Paul said he was off to the men’s room, he followed his movements from the corner of his eye and saw him walking towards the exit of the Cavern. John suddenly felt very anxious, all his senses on high alert. “Hey guys, I’m gonna take a leek before we’re on again” he excused himself, leaving George and Pete behind as he tried to follow Paul. He lost sight of him due to the dark, crowded cellar they were in, and it made him push people to the side to catch up with Paul. He caught a glimpse of him going up the stairs towards the street. 

When John reached the street, he couldn’t see Paul anywhere and a feeling of sheer panic took over his whole being. Where did Paul go? His eyes scanned Mathew Street from left to right, but there was no sign of Paul. Shit! A feeling of premonition almost paralyzed him. What should he do? His legs suddenly started running on their own accord, like they knew where to find Paul. John let them lead him, realizing where they were taking him. _Towards the docks._

He was exhausted when he reached Albert Dock. Why did he decide to go here, looking for Paul? It was dark and cold, but he was sweating profoundly as his eyes scanned the surroundings. He remembered Steve telling him how Dusty had found Paul at the docks, standing on the quay, about to jump. He was really panicking now. Was _that_ why he had come to the docks? Because he was afraid Paul would try again? What if he was too late already? Oh, God, let him be alright!

His eyes caught a dark shadow standing on the quay, close to the edge. Paul? He slowly walked over to the silent figure, as not to startle him. He had almost reached him when he saw the young man move and take a step forward. John took one more step and placed a hand on his lover’s shoulder. “Please, Paul, don’t.......”

***

Paul stopped his movement. He looked down at the dark, cold water, so inviting. Just one more step and that dark, cold fluid would consume him, erase all fears, all horrible memories, all sadness and hopelessness, erase……. _John._ It would erase John and the beautiful memories he had of them together. John’s touch, his scent, his voice, his body, his hands…….so many beautiful memories. “Paul, darling, please don’t do this. Whatever it is, we can work it out, my love. This is not the way. Please baby don’t do this. How am I supposed to live without you?”

John's voice sounded like he was in terrible pain, pleading with him, begging him. Johnny, _his Johnny,_ who had been abandoned by his father, his mother, his uncle. And now _Paul_ was abandoning him as well. How could he do that to John? He felt John’s arms encircling his waist, pulling his back close to John’s warm body. It made him feel so warm, loved and safe. He never wanted to lose that feeling.

But he was going to lose it, wasn’t he? John would _certainly_ leave him if Paul wouldn’t give him what he wanted. And he just _couldn’t_ give John what he wanted, the memories of fear and pain caused upon him years ago, were still too vivid. It had hurt, it had hurt so badly, he just couldn’t go through that again, not even with John. So it was better to go, better to not be anymore, better than living a life without John. 

Paul tried to pull himself loose from John’s arms in an attempt to plunge into the water, but John held him in an iron grip. “No, darling, please stay with me. I love you. I love you so, so much. No matter what happened in the past, or what will happen in the future, I will _always_ love you, I will _never_ leave you, you are my world” 

Hearing John say those words made Paul choke up. Wasn’t he supposed to say those words to John? To the young man who had been left by so many people in his life already? Shouldn’t _he_ be the one to tell John that he would never leave _him?_ Instead of taking his own life and do what all those others had done? Wasn’t it incredibly selfish of him to hurt John in that way, just because he wanted to prevent himself from getting hurt? 

He stopped his struggle to get loose and found his knees go week. He would have fallen to the ground if John hadn’t held on to him, and suddenly he felt tears running down his face. “J-J-Johnny.” He felt John’s warm breath caressing his ear. “It’s alright, my love, everything’s gonna be alright. We are going to be alright. You and me. _Together._ No matter what happens, we can find our way somehow.”

***

They sat on the cold sidewalk for a long time, their arms wrapped around each other, John rocking Paul’s body back and forth, whispering sweet nothings in the boy’s thick hair. Paul had started sobbing uncontrollably, but John’s soothing words had eventually calmed him down. John held him tightly, afraid the boy would disappear if he let go of him. The incident had shaken him to the core.

He shivered as he realized that he could have lost Paul, _would_ have lost Paul, if he’d found him just a few seconds later. He couldn’t lose Paul, the boy meant the world to him! But something was wrong, so wrong…….This was the second time Paul had tried to take his own life. What if he would try again? He had to make sure he wouldn’t try again. But how could he keep Paul safe if he didn’t know what was wrong with him?

“Come on baby, let’s go home, it’s much too cold out here, come on love.” He helped Paul up, holding both his hands. “Look at me, darling, we’re going by the Cavern first to tell them we’re going home and…....” 

“Oh, fuck!” Paul suddenly looked up and faced John with a horrified look on his face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I just walked out! We’ve gotta go back, we need to finish tonight’s show!” John cupped Paul’s cheek and shook his head. “You’re _not_ going back on stage tonight Macca, you’re in no condition to do so. You’re going _home_ to get a good night’s sleep.” 

Paul’s eyes looked worried. “But what will you tell them? _Please,_ John, don’t tell anybody what I’ve done, please?” John wrapped an arm around Paul’s shoulder and hugged him close to his side. “Of course I won’t tell anybody, babe, I’ll just tell them you’ve fallen ill and can’t go back on stage, okay? And then I’m taking you home, you can take a long, hot shower and then go to bed. And I’m gonna be right by your side. So, let’s go!”

John asked Paul to wait outside as he took the stairs down to the damp cellar. No need to expose Paul to all those prying eyes, the boy was already uncomfortable enough. Ray, the Cavern’s manager, wasn’t very pleased that John and Paul had done a disappearing act, and neither were George and Pete, but when John explained Paul had gone outside to get some fresh air because he felt very sick and that he wouldn’t be able to play anymore tonight, they understood. “It doesn’t really surprise me” George had said, “The guy looked like he was coming down with something for days already.”

John also cancelled their lunchtime gig for the next day and promised to let them all know in time if tomorrow’s evening performance could go on as scheduled. He quickly grabbed Paul’s overcoat as well as his own and ran up the stairs again, relieved to still see Paul standing at the entrance of the club, shivering in the cold. He wrapped the coat around Paul’s shoulders and they walked down Mathew Street together, on their way back home. 

***

In the weeks following Paul’s suicide attempt, they didn’t talk about the incident. Paul just got on with his day to day life as if nothing had happened. It frustrated John enormously. He felt they had to talk about it, but every time he tried to bring the matter up, Paul would just do anything to avoid a conversation.

Paul did return to his jolly, bouncing self, so that was a good thing. But John was still worried. Paul’s downwards spiral had happened so suddenly, he hadn’t see it coming at all. What if something like that would happen again? And what if he wouldn’t be able to stop him this time? He _really_ needed somebody to talk about it, but he had promised Paul not to tell anyone. 

He decided to bring the matter up, however, when he and Paul visited Dusty and Steve. After a delicious meal cooked by Steve, Paul and Dusty were deep in conversation about some book Dusty recently read and John joined Steve in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes. 

“Steve, I need your advice on something, but you have to promise not to tell Paul about it.” Steve groaned. _“Oh no,_ John, I don’t know if I’m up to giving more advice in the sex department!” John chuckled. “Really? I thought you _enjoyed_ explaining about the bees and the bees to me last time!” _“Enjoyed?_ For heaven’s sake, John, it was so embarrassing talking about such intimate things!” “Can’t have been half as embarrassing as it was for me to _ask_ about it. But seriously, Steve, it’s got nothing to do with sex, at least not directly…....I think.” 

“Well, shoot then.” Steve kept on washing the dishes as John dried. “Paul tried to top himself again.” Steve dropped the plate he was rinsing off back into the water with a loud splash and looked at John with a horrified expression on his face. “Oh John, no!” 

John sighed deeply. “I’m afraid so, Steve. He seems to be alright now, but the thing is…….I didn’t see it coming and I’m _so_ afraid he’ll try again. I caught him just in time, seconds before he was about to jump into the water, but what if I won’t be able to stop him in time if he tries again? I _can’t_ lose him, Steve! I love him so much, I couldn’t bear to live without him! But he won’t talk to me, doesn’t want to explain why, and it so bloody frustrating! I mean, how am I supposed to help him, protect him, prevent another suicide attempt if I _don’t know_ what the problem is?” He looked at Steve in despair. “I can’t lose him, Steve. What am I supposed to do?” 

“Do you have any idea at all what might have brought it on?” John shook his head. “Not really, no. But a few days earlier, I brought up the subject of anal sex…….and he just flipped! He had some kind of panic attack or something, he had trouble breathing and even passed out for a few seconds. It was really scary and weird. I mean, I can understand the thought of being fucked might scare him a bit, but his reaction seemed to be so out of proportion……He even said he would leave me if I insisted on fucking him.”

“And later that night he had a terrible dream. He’s had nightmares before, but this one was…… _terrifying._ Almost like somebody was trying to _kill_ him. He had been a bit subdued for a couple of days after that, but I didn’t see _this_ coming at all. What should I do Steve?”

***

Paul had enjoyed the meal Steve had cooked. He also enjoyed Steve and Dusty’s company. He trusted the two older men and was grateful for the way they had helped him to get back on his feet again after his first attempt to drown himself. _His first attempt._ Yes there had been a second one. But he didn’t want to think about it anymore. He had been so stupid!

He also loved talking to his old teacher about literature. He might have dropped out of teacher training college, much to the disappointment of Dusty, who would have loved to have seen Paul as his colleague at the Inny, but English literature was still a subject that interested him a lot. He was so engrossed in his conversation with Dusty, he hadn’t noticed John and Steve were taking a lot of time doing the dishes. 

When John finally emerged from the kitchen, Paul sent him a sunny smile. How he loved that man! Steve brought in a tray with coffee cups. Paul wasn’t very into coffee, he was much more a tea-man, but Dusty and Steve always had coffee after dinner, and so Paul bravely drank the bitter fluid, with lots of sugar and milk. John sat down on the couch beside him, drinking his own coffee, and suddenly Paul felt like something was off. John looked so…….so…....sad? Why did he look sad? They’d just had a wonderful meal and were in very nice company. 

They had an hour or so left until they had to leave for the Cavern for tonight’s show, and Paul was looking forward to it. Performing in front of an audience had become like a second nature to him, especially with John on stage beside him. Was John not looking forward to performing tonight? Was that why he was sad? The thought of his _suicide attempt_ having anything to do with John’s mood didn’t even cross his mind once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So life goes on. And you'll read all about it in the next chapter.


	35. BACK IN HAMBURG AGAIN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John and Paul both pretend Paul's suicide attempt never happened, but of course it's still on their minds as they start a new run of shows in Hamburg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

When John and Paul had left for the Cavern, Dusty turned to Steve. “What was wrong with you and John then? You were in the kitchen for a very long time and when you came back……..Did the two of you have an argument or something?” Steve shook his head. “No, love, we didn’t, but John told me something very disturbing. A couple of weeks ago, Paul tried to kill himself again.” 

Dusty’s face paled. “Oh my God, _no!_ Why? I thought he was doing so much better since he and John were together, what happened? Did they have a falling out?” Steve sighed “No they didn’t. And John’s not sure what triggered it, although…….Paul did seem to react totally out of proportion when John suggested anal sex apparently, so _that_ might have triggered it. I don’t know……And John is really scared he’ll try again, but he doesn’t know what to do, since he doesn’t know what brought it on, and Paul of course, isn’t talking.”

Dusty frowned deeply. “There’s something Paul’s not telling us. I already felt it after his first suicide attempt. He explained about being confused about his sexuality and his seemingly unrequited love for John. But I always thought there was _more._ A dark secret he’s not willing to share with any of us, and that has a very deep impact on his entire life. And I’m afraid that as long as he’s not letting any of us in on that secret, it will overtake his emotions from time to time, sending him into a depression.”

Steve hummed in agreement. “I know what you mean. But the boy won’t talk about it, you know that as well as I do. He should talk to a psychiatrist about it, but I doubt he will even _consider_ it when we suggest it. He’s so stubborn sometimes……”

“So what did you tell John?” Dusty asked his partner. “To keep him under close watch. To look out for any sign of depression and never leave him alone when he even has the _slightest_ suspicion of things going downwards again. And to contact _us_ if that happens, so we can look after him _together.”_ Dusty nodded. “Good advice, Steve. There really isn’t much else we can do, is there? If only we could get the boy to talk…...” 

Steve shook his head. “He’s _never_ going to talk, Dusty, we both know that, so we’ll just need to keep an eye on him. Poor John, he was shaken to the core. He got to Paul just in time. Managed to prevent him from jumping into the water and calm him down. He said Paul was very upset and crying, but didn’t tell him why he had done it. He’s so worried about him. He really loves our kid, you know.”

 _“Our kid. Paul._ He kind of is just that, isn’t he? Our lovely, talented, strong, yet very vulnerable kid. I feel so responsible, so _protective_ of him after saving his life. It feels like he’s _our son,_ somehow. He’s so precious to me. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to him. And John has become so dear to me as well.” 

Steve wrapped his arm around Dusty’s shoulders. “I know exactly what you mean. They are so special to me too. Let’s just hope that Paul will trust John enough one day to open up to him and tell him his secrets and that John will be able to catch Paul when he falls. But I’m sure everything will turn out alright for them, because they _really_ love each other deeply. They will find their way somehow.”

***

They were booked to go to Hamburg again for a few weeks. John was looking forward to see Stu again, but knew better than to say so to Paul. He sensed Paul was still somewhat jealous of his friendship with Stu; he didn’t understand why though, after all, it was just friendship. Nothing like the love he felt for Paul. But still, better not stir up feelings that might trigger Paul to get into that downwards spiral again, so he hid his happiness about seeing Stu again.

John had insisted on two separate bedrooms this time, he didn’t want to be separated from Paul again at night, remembering the lonely nights without him in his arms from their last stay. Plus, he wanted Paul close so he always could keep an eye on him. They had never discussed Paul’s suicide attempt again, John being too scared what Paul’s reaction would be if he brought it up. Life had just gone on as if nothing ever happened, at least that was how Paul acted. But John couldn’t help thinking about it constantly. 

Why had Paul done it? Could it happen again? And if so, would he be able to prevent Paul from succeeding? Better make sure he kept Paul close and happy. And judging from Paul’s face as John entered their bedroom, the fact they had a bedroom for just the two of them (although they had to share a bathroom with George and Pete), made him very happy indeed. 

“Ah, Johnny! This is so much better than last time! We can actually _sleep together_ this time. I really think our stay in Hamburg this time around will be absolutely fuckin’ marvellous!” John had grinned his widest grin seeing his lover’s happy face, making him feel butterflies again. God, he was still so much in love with that gorgeous boy! And if Paul turned on that sunny smile that made those beautiful eyes twinkle with joy, John was a goner. He pulled Paul in his arms, nuzzled the boy’s dark hair and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Happy, baby?” Paul looked at him with so much love in his eyes, it made John weak in the knees. “Yes Johnny, very happy.”

***

Paul was happy indeed. They played in a much better club than last time, the Top Ten Club, and the audiences were absolutely crazy. They became more and more popular and drew ever growing crowds, which benefitted the Top Ten Club of course. Therefore the club’s manager, Horst Fascher, extended their contract twice, so they eventually ended up playing at the Top Ten Club for 92 nights! And Paul loved _every_ minute of it. 

When the four of them were on stage, Paul felt absolutely on fire. He loved belting out songs like “Long Tall Sally” and “Hippy Hippy Shake”. Singing those songs sometimes felt like an out-of-body experience to him. But he also loved crooning the ballads like ”A taste of honey” and “Till there was you”, the latter one being John’s favourite of him. John always watched him when he sang that one, looking completely besotted. 

And he loved hearing John scream out his lungs on songs like “Mr. Moonlight” and “Twist and shout.” Seeing John giving his all on songs like that made Paul’s stomach do somersaults. He also loved it when John did “Soldier of love”, it always made him feel all warm and fluttery.

And it felt so good going to their room after their shows, just the two of them, lying down on the bottom of the bunk bed together, lazily smoking a cigarette, relishing in a bliss that resembled the one after they had made love, after their thrilling performance, before falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

And of course there was the _real_ sexual bliss after passionate love-making, often after they had woken up after a peaceful night’s sleep. Paul loved it when John ran his hands all over his body and pampered him with little kisses from top to toe. Loved it when John kissed his neck and licked his nipples. He also gave the _best_ blowjobs in the world (not that Paul had experienced any _others,_ but still.....). And he _loved_ to hear John moan as he softly nibbled his earlobe and pressed kisses on the inside of John’s thighs. And John’s groans as he went down on him, were to die for! 

Paul had really grown to love giving John a blowjob. He absolutely loved feeling John’s cock in his mouth, tasting his flesh, as his nose inhaled the musky scent of the man’s pubic hair. It still surprised him sometimes that he loved it so much. He never liked it when Mr. Maxwell made him take him in his mouth. He had always thought it was disgusting. It just was so different with John, _everything_ was different with John. Making love with John was just pure bliss. 

But always there was this nagging feeling in the back of his mind. What if John asked for _more_ again? They hadn’t discussed the matter again, John probably being aware that Paul was afraid of it and that it had led to Paul’s suicide attempt. But John _obviously_ wanted to fuck him, he had said so after all. What would happen if Paul wouldn’t let him? He _couldn’t_ let him! The memories of the pain caused upon him by Mr. Maxwell made him shiver and his blood run cold. Would John leave him if he didn’t give in to the man’s desires? 

Living without John wasn’t an option though, so what would he do if John asked again? Man up, and let John take him, endure the fear and pain? Or say “no” and risk losing the man he loved so much? The question hung above his day-to-day life like Damocles’ sword. It tampered his happiness and he didn’t want anything to tamper his happiness. So he pushed the matter away in one of the compartments in his brain, hoping it would stay there and not bother him again, locking the door and trying to throw away the key. But he never really managed to throw away the key…….

***

John saw the happiness in Paul’s eyes, every time he watched him giving it all on stage, every time he admired the young man’s gorgeous naked body below him, or on top of him, run his hands over that delicious body, feel Paul run his hands over his body, touching him in all the right places……Every time Paul gave him a passionate blowjob, an accomplished hand job or every time they just grinded their bodies together in search for a climax……Every time he realized that that stunning, loving, young man was his, that those breathtaking smiles were meant for _him,_ he felt butterflies. Like he was a bloody teenager. And he wasn’t a teenager anymore. He was twenty, going on twenty-one for heaven’s sake!

But not just their personal relationship was flourishing, so was their professional one. Paul had become an expert on the bass guitar, playing his Höffner like it was his _lover,_ those long fingers caressing the strings like they did John’s body. John was amazed at the ease Paul managed to sing every song while playing something that was so different from what he sang. And he never even looked at his fingers while doing so, whereas John still had to see where he placed his fingers on the frets sometimes. 

And their song writing! The _real_ song writing, not the _cover-up_ of course. It was like they were on fire, writing one song after another, the music and lyrics flowing like a wild river from their minds. It was exhilarating. More and more John started to get the feeling The Beatles were going to the top. To the toppermost of the poppermost. And he would do so together with Paul. _His Paul._

***

They were asked to accompany Tony Sheridan making a record. The man had become quite the star in Hamburg, but he needed a good backing band for his record. And so he had asked The Beatles to back him. After all, they were the best band around, weren’t they? 

They were all thrilled, going into a real recording studio! Although John wasn’t too fond of Tony since he always made such denigrating remarks about Paul’s looks. Always going on about how Paul’s delicate eyebrows made him look like a fairy. Always going on about Paul probably being queer because of his feminine features. Which of course he _was,_ but John didn’t think Paul looked _feminine_ at all. Just _beautiful._

Come to think of it: Tony was probably queer himself and had a major crush on Paul, who was _his,_ and the man tried to hide his crush by making denigrating remarks about Paul. Better keep an eye on the man, wouldn’t want his Paul to fall victim to Tony’s secret longings. And although Paul pretended not to mind Tony’s remarks, John, knowing Paul so well, could see the hurt in his lover’s eyes every time the young man had to endure Tony’s banter.

Paul wasn’t very fond of Tony either. The man never stopped making remarks about his eyebrows, how they made him look queer. Paul just ignored the comments, used to people calling him out on his feminine features, but the comments still hurt. Yes, he _was queer_ , but he was also very _masculine,_ thank you very much. But he swallowed his pride because…...well because chances to make a real record were far and in between, weren’t they? And he was going to grab that chance with both hands. 

They were scheduled to go into the studio in Hamburg just a few days after Paul’s 19th birthday, for the first of three recording sessions with Tony. John had taken Paul to an Italian restaurant for his birthday. After Steve had cooked them Italian food several times, both young men had really started to like it, and when John had discovered this little Italian place, he knew it would be the _perfect_ treat for his birthday boy. It was quite expensive, but seeing Paul devour his food with sparkling eyes, made it all worthwhile.

They were a bit disappointed when they were actually reduced to being just a backing band for Tony, but in the end they were allowed to record two songs by themselves “Cry for a shadow” and “Ain’t she sweet”. They did have a lot of fun recording though, and they made 25 Deutsch Marks per person per session. The sessions only took something like 3 or 4 hours each day, while they earned 35 Deutsch Marks per person playing for 7 or 8 hours at the Top Ten Club. So it was a very welcome addition to their salaries! It meant Paul could buy that new camera he had seen in a Hamburg photography shop, as a present for Mike. His younger brother had been showing an interest in photography lately, using the family’s old camera. He would be so happy getting a brand new one!

John and Paul talked about their recording session when they were lying in their small bed that night, holding each other tight. “I really could get used to recording, you know. Recording _our own songs,_ wouldn’t that be great?” Paul’s excited voice echoed in the darkness of the room. “Yeah, babe, it certainly would. I loved seeing you all excited in the studio. I always love seeing you excited. Your eyes start twinkling and the whole room lights up. Sometimes you feel like the sun to me.” 

He caressed the dark head resting on his chest. Paul softly kissed his almost hairless chest and whispered “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, Johnny.” John chuckled in the dark hair, “Romantic? _Me?_ I ain’t romantic, son, haven’t got a romantic bone in me body!” Paul looked up to see John’s face and kissed his chin. “I disagree Johnny boy, I think you’re _totally_ romantic. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody, wouldn’t want to spoil your tough demeanour, now, would I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can read more on their stay in Hamburg in the next chapter. Hope you all keep reading!


	36. A BIRTHDAY PRESENT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Their stay in Hamburg comes to an end. But not before some interresting things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

They had gathered a steady fan base at the Top Ten Club, that had grown larger by the week. And by the end of their stay they had grown into the most popular band in Hamburg. They had not only developed into a very tight band, playing and singing for hours, entertaining their audience, but had also become real idols, with girls screaming at them and swooning over them. 

When Paul sang one of his ballads, John could see the female part of the audience looking at him with love-sick eyes. No need to be worried about that though, since Paul wouldn’t act on any of the girls coming on to him. 

What did worry John was that some of the men in the audience seemed to be really interested in his partner as well. And that could be a thread to John’s position. Paul, however, seemed to be totally oblivious about the effect he had on both women and men, and when John had pointed it out to him, he had just laughed at him, called him ridiculous and told him there was no need to be jealous, since he had only eyes for John.

But when on one of the nights, during their break, a man came on to Paul, who was standing at the bar drinking a beer, John started to see red. He walked over to the two men at the bar, shoving people to the side on his way over, and punched the man in the face, telling him to keep his filthy hands off his mate. Paul looked at him in total disbelieve and pulled John away from the bar to a more quiet spot. 

“What did you do that for John?” John shook his painful hand in the air and hissed “He was coming on to you, Paul, and you just let him!” Paul raised his eyebrows and whispered “He wasn’t coming on to me! He was just being nice and I was just talking to him!” “Just talking to him? You were all smiles and fluttering eyes! And you let him touch your lower back as well, he was practically squeezing your arse!” 

Paul shook his head. “Johnny, you’ve got it all wrong! You know I’m not interested in any other man but you! Now lower your voice, before somebody hears you!” “You’re _so_ oblivious, Paul, you don’t seem to have a clue just how stunning you are and the effect that has on other men.” 

John suddenly looked a bit sad. ”Johnny, you’re just being jealous for no reason. You know you’re the only one for me, I would never react on any come-on from another man. Which I’m sure was not the case anyway. And you just made a total spectacle of yourself.” 

John looked down at his feet. “It’s just…….sometimes…….sometimes I do get really jealous, you know, cause you’re so bloody gorgeous and you can have anyone you want. Why would you settle for little ugly me?” Paul’s mouth dropped open as he looked at John with astonishment. _“Ugly?_ You’re _not_ ugly! John, you are _beautiful! Everything_ about you is beautiful! Your gorgeous auburn hair, your beautiful almond eyes, your breathtaking smile, your lovely nose….” 

_“Lovely nose?_ I _hate_ my nose! It’s way too big for my face, and crooked, and….” “Stop it John! _I love your nose!_ It’s a _beautiful_ aquiline nose that makes you look like a Roman emperor. It makes you look _strong and masculine._ I wish I had a nose like that instead of the stupid small girlish one I have.” “Your nose is perfect Paul, and it isn’t girlish, it fits your beautiful face perfectly. I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Paul chuckled. “Aren’t we the most sickly mutual appreciation society then? But seriously, John, both inside and outside, you are _always_ the most beautiful man in the whole world to me.”

***

On their last night in Hamburg they went out for diner before their show with Tony Sheridan, members of Rory Storm and the Hurricanes and Gerry and the Pacemakers. George had established a really good friendship with Rory’s drummer Ringo Starr. Ringo had once sat in on Pete’s spot when he was not feeling well, and John and Paul had looked at each other in amazement and joy. _That_ was the kind of drummer they were looking for, so different from Pete! But since Rory was _way_ more popular in Liverpool than The Beatles were, Ringo surely wouldn’t change bands. Too bad.

They had a lovely evening, chatting about their time in Hamburg, sitting close together in one of the booths of the restaurant, when Paul suddenly felt a hand on his thigh. Thinking it was John, he turned to him to tell him softly not to do so in public, only to be met with Rory’s blue eyes. Paul had forgotten he was sitting next to him and the hand on his thigh got him all confused. Paul felt himself blush when the hand started moving upwards in the direction of his groin, making him feeling very uncomfortable. “Please don’t” he whispered to Rory, whose body was pressed close to his side.

“C-c-can w-w-we go s-s-somewhere alone, P-P-Paul?” Rory stuttered in his ear, in a husky voice. It always amazed Paul how Rory would always stutter when he spoke, but could sing without any sign of a stutter. Paul looked over to where John was sitting, but he was speaking animated to Ringo and George and didn’t notice Paul. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, mate.” The hand kept stroking his thigh. “I r-r-really like you, P-P-Paul.” Paul looked in Rory’s eyes. “I like you too, Rory, but not in _that way._ I’m sorry, but eh…...could you please remove your hand?“ 

Rory did as Paul asked. “It’s because of J-J-John, isn’t it?” Paul raised his eyebrows, feeling very concerned. Was it _that_ obvious? “I don’t know what you’re talking about, mate. John’s got nothing to do with it. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m just not inclined that way, okay?” Rory sighed “If you s-s-say s-s-so…….I always t-t-thought you w-w-were, you know. You’re so g-g- gorgeous…...Sorry if I o-o-offended you.” 

Paul smiled at him “No offence taken.” He felt very rotten about the way he had denied his sexuality in front of Rory, who was not only such a kind and gentle soul but apparently homosexual as well. But what _could_ he have done? _Admit_ he was homosexual as well? What good would that have done? Rory might have taken that as an okay to come on to him. And Paul _didn’t want_ other men to come on to him. And he could hardly say he was in a relationship with John, outing him without his consent. 

God, he hadn’t seen this coming at all. Maybe John was right, maybe he was completely oblivious about men coming on to him. He was so glad when John announced it was time to go to the Top Ten Club. Just one more night, one more show, and then they would be on their way back to good old Liverpool.

***

It was already late when they arrived back home. They had dropped their luggage and guitars on the floor and fell down on the couch together, tired of the long, exhausting trip back from Hamburg, but happy to be in their own apartment again. 

John put his head on Paul’s shoulder. “It’s good to be home again, baby.” Paul hummed in agreement, his hand stroking John’s hair. “It’ll be good sleeping in our own bed again. You know, we should be unpacking our luggage, but to be honest, I just want to go to bed right now, I’m so bloody tired.” John sat up and kissed the corner of Paul’s mouth. “So, let’s go to bed. The luggage can wait until tomorrow.” 

They stumbled into their bedroom and made it to the bed together, after undressing themselves and each other. But the moment they hit the mattress, their hands were all over each other, calloused fingers touching naked skin. Passionate kisses followed, lips pressed together, teeth nibbling, tongues tasting. Soon both of them were completely erect and they were rubbing their cocks together, while the room was filled with heated moans from both men. 

Being so attuned to each other by now, knowing so well what the other one liked, they reached their climaxes together and a complete bliss fell upon them as they held each other close, relaxing in the warmth of each other’s arms, inhaling each other’s scent, listening to each other’s heartbeat, enjoying the feeling of each other’s naked skin, just loving each other. They were home.

***

They had visited Paul’s dad and Mike, telling them all (well obviously _not all_ ) about their Hamburg adventures. “It’s been so great, dad, the audience really loved us! It’s so exhilarating to play for such an enthusiastic crowd, it kind of gives you an adrenaline kick. And we made a _record!_ A real record in a real studio!” “No way! You guys really made _a record?”_ Mike was all excited “Is it going to be for sale in England?” John had laughed at the excitement his lover’s younger brother showed. “I don’t know about the UK, Mikey, but I’m sure it’s for sale _somewhere.”_

Old Jim McCartney looked at his son with something like pride in his eyes. His son had made a _record!_ That’s something he never managed to do himself. His son was really getting somewhere with that band of his! Who would have known? “So what’s next then?” he asked his son. “The Cavern again. They want us as their regular band, so we will be performing there almost every day, both at lunch-time as well as at night.” They enjoyed Jim’s Sunday Roast, John really loved the mushy peas Paul’s old man always made, and they had a very lovely evening.

And they had visited John’s aunt Mimi, telling her a bit ( _a very little bit_ , truth be told) about their Hamburg adventures. “We actually made _a record,_ Mimi” John had tried to tell her about going into a real recording studio, making a real record, but she had looked at him with disgust. “I hope it isn’t for sale _here in Liverpool._ It’s _so embarrassing_ to explain to the ladies of the bridge club and the church that my nephew has made such a _mundane_ thing as a record.” 

Paul raised his eyebrows. “It’s quite an honour to be asked to make a record, Mrs. Smith, we’re very proud of it.” She looked at him with disdain. That little Irish R.C. friend of John’s from the wrong side of town. Why did John always hook up with the wrong people? “Well, I hope you realize that playing in a group…..” “A _band,_ Mimi, it’s called a _band”_ “…..that playing in a group will _never_ pay your bills.” John looked at Paul in despair, but Paul just shrugged his shoulders and tried to concentrate on his meal. The steak and kidney pie tasted okay, but they were glad to go home after diner.

Steve and Dusty were also paid a visit, the two young men always feeling at home with them, because they could actually be themselves while in their home. No need to hide their feelings for each other, sitting on the couch there. So they sat close, holding hands, while they told Steve and Dusty about Hamburg. “Men were coming onto Paul left and right, and he was just so _bloody oblivious_ about it, I had to smack one of them in the face to stop him from getting his hands all over Paul.” 

Paul chuckled. “Yeah, that was _pretty embarrassing,_ John. The man was just talking to me.” John shook his head. ”You see? He’s _totally oblivious_ about the effect he has on other men. He doesn’t realize just how gorgeous he is.” Steve nodded. “John might be right, Paul. You are a _stunning_ young man. And I’m sure other homosexual men sense you might be one of them, so to speak, and want to make a pass on you.” 

He chuckled. “I know _I would_ if I didn’t have Dusty!” _“Steve!!!”_ the three other men shouted out in horror. “Don’t worry guys, I know Paul is spoken for, and as a matter of fact, so am I.” He pressed a kiss on Dusty’s cheek. “I’m gonna start making dinner” and with that he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the others doubling up in laughter.

***

John’s 21st birthday was approaching, and a few weeks before that day, he received a letter from his aunt Mater in Edinburgh to congratulate him. When John opened the envelope, a 100 pound note fell out and whirled to the floor of their small living room. They both stared at it in absolute disbelieve. John picked it up, looked at Paul and then, waving the banknote in the air, started jumping up and down “I’m rich, I’m rich, I’m rich!”

“Is that a _real_ 100 pound note, Johnny? Let me see it, I’ve _never_ seen one of those!” John handed Paul the banknote, who looked at it in awe. “Wow, just look at that! I’ve never held so much money in my hand in my entire life! Your aunt must really love you John!” John grabbed the money out of Paul’s hand. “Of course she loves me. I’m her favourite nephew of course.” Paul raised his eyebrows. “You are? I don’t think I have ever heard you mention her before.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? She obviously likes _me_ very much. But then again, doesn’t everybody? I’m a very nice guy after all. Kind and polite and hardworking and all that.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Paul, who started laughing. “Yeah, right John, especially the “polite” part _really_ applies to you. But.......it’s _a lot_ of money John. You’d better think about what you’re going to do with it. Maybe put it aside to save it up for something big, or buy a new guitar or amplifier or something. Better spend it wisely.”

“Oh don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. Wisely is my middle name, Paulie dear.” John wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist, hugging him close, kissing his nose. “Strange, that. I’ve always thought it was _Winston._ I suppose I’ve always mistaken the _W_ in your name then, John _Wisely_ Lennon. But seriously, it’s _really_ a lot of money, better think of a good cause to spend it on, love”

John kissed the young man in his arms tenderly. “I already know _exactly_ what good cause to spend it on, baby.” Paul wrapped his arms around John’s neck. “Do you, Johnny? What cause might that be then?” John smiled at the gorgeous young man in his arms. He knew exactly what do with the money. Something he’d wanted to do for some time, but he had never had enough money to do so. But now he had. He kissed Paul again and then took his face in both his hands, looking into those kaleidoscope eyes, whispering huskily “There can only be _one good cause_ to spend it on, baby. _You.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they're back in Liverpool. And John received his birthday money. I think we all know what he's going to spend it on, don't we?


	37. PARIS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> So John and Paul go to Paris, the city of love!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John had decided to spend his birthday money on something he had wanted to do for a long time: take Paul away for a holiday. Paul had once told him he had fond memories of the holidays he had with his family when his mum was still alive, going to Wales. Paul had enjoyed the nature and strolling through small villages and the feeling of being in an entirely different environment. But after his mother’s death, money was short, and they hadn’t been on a holiday again since.

In other conversations Paul had expressed his love for art. He might not have attended Art College, like John had, but he seemed to know _a lot more about art_ than John did. He apparently had won a prize for an essay about Coronation Day when he was ten (the young man was a _real royalist_ , one of the few things they didn’t see eye to eye about), and had spend the book-token he had received on a book about art. 

He hoped to go to Europe’s capital cities one day to visit their museums, like the British Museum in London. He’d never even _been_ to the country’s capital, much to John’s surprise, who had visited the city with his aunt. (“I’d really love to see their Egyptian Art Collection and the Rosetta Stone”). But he also longed to go to the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam (“Just _imagine_ seeing Rembrandt’s “Nightwatch” for real! Or “The Milkmaid” by Vermeer!”), the Pergamon Museum in Berlin (“They have an _incredible_ collection with ancient art from Turkey, Syria and Persia”) to the Louvre in Paris (“The Mona Lisa must be really _exquisite._ And they have works by Rafaël and Caravaggio as well”).

So John had combined “holiday”, “art” and “being alone with Paul, because I love him” and came up with the perfect answer: a trip to Paris! Problem was: they would have to cancel some Cavern shows. Meaning they wouldn’t earn any money. He knew that wouldn’t go down well with George and Pete, since they both needed the money. And he wanted to take Paul away for a least a month. He could just imagine how _utterly romantic_ that would be, walking with Paul down the Seine, lying beneath the Eifel Tower, eating croissants, sleeping in a cosy little hotel room.......Well, never mind George and Pete, Paul was the _only one_ that mattered. He was going to take his beautiful boy to the city of love.

***

“On me? You want to spend your birthday money _on me?_ Why on earth would you want to do _that_ for?” Paul looked at John, puzzled. _He_ would spend it on a nice new acoustic guitar if he had received so much money. “You shouldn’t waste your money on _me,_ John. It’s a present from _your aunt for you,_ and by the way, come to think of t, you should write her a nice thank-you-letter, so you should spend it on _yourself.”_

“Oh, but the way I’m planning to spend it, I’m not only spending it on _you,_ but also on _myself”_ John replied, wiggling his eyebrows. “For heaven’s sake John, stop talking in riddles! What are you going to do with the 100 pounds? 100 pounds.......not only have I never _seen_ that much money, I don’t think I even ever _pronounced_ it........100 pounds!” John smiled at him and wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist, pulling him close. “I’m going to take you away, Macca” he said, kissing Paul’s lips softly. 

_“Take me away?_ What do you mean? Where are you taking me to?” John nuzzled Paul’s nose. “I’m going to take you on a _holiday,_ baby. A nice, long trip, just the two of us. How about that?” Paul’s eyes widened “A holiday? We’re going on a holiday? _Seriously?_ Oh God, John, I haven’t been on a holiday since.......since mum......” “I know, baby, I know, and it’s been quite a while for me as well. So how about it? Ready to take the trip of your life with the most attractive man in the world?” “I’m going to take a trip with _the most attractive man_ in the world? Who might _that_ be then?” Paul teased John. “Oy, McCartney, watch you words, son, or I’m taking someone else to Paris with me!” Paul’s mouth dropped open _“Paris?_ We’re going to _Paris?_ Fuck John, that’s..... that’s just.......wow!” His arms flew around John’s neck and he started kissing the man’s face. “Paris! John, I’ve _always_ wanted to go to Paris!”

***

As John suspected, George and Pete _weren’t exactly happy_ about him and Paul dropping out for a month. And that was mildly put. George especially spoke his mind very straightforward. “You are joking, aren’t you, Lennon? You _can’t_ just leave for a month! That’s dozens of shows that would need to be cancelled! Do you have _any idea_ how much money will miss out on? Do you, John? It’s 3 pounds and 15 shilling for each performance at the Cavern. We’ll have to cancel _at least 20_ of them if you leave for a month! And we’ve got some other gigs booked as well. That’s something like......like......I don’t know....... _a lot of money,_ Lennon! I _need_ that money, you know. Not everybody’s born with a spoon in his mouth, like you!”

“Oh, come on now, George, John’s hardly born with a spoon in his mouth, and you know that very well.” Paul decided to stand up for John, but only managed to get George to turn on _him_ now. “Of course _you_ would say that, wouldn’t you, Paul. After all, _you_ benefit from John’s birthday money, with him taking you along to Paris! But in the meantime you don’t earn anything either. How do you think you’re going to pay the rent for your apartment then?”

“Well, I did save up some money, George, and between John and me, we have enough to pay a month’s rent. Come on now George, it’s John’s 21st birthday, he wants to do _something special,_ you can’t deny him that. You only turn 21 once in your life, it’s a very special occasion! And _you_ don’t need to pay the rent anyway; you still live with your parents! So missing out on a few week’s wages can’t be _that_ bad.” “I do have to pay _boarding money_ Paul, and if I don’t do so, my parents will either throw me out or tell me to find a decent job!” Paul raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Aunt Louise and Uncle Harry will _definitely_ not throw you out just like that, George, don’t be ridiculous. They both dote on you, being their baby and all. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

But George didn’t want to change his point of view and even threatened to leave the band if John and Paul decided to go to France for a month. And on top of it all, Pete agreed with him. They would _both_ leave the band if John and Paul decided to go away for a month. But since John was determined to go through with his plans, they had a real problem on their hands; they could end up not only without a lead guitarist but without a drummer as well! There wouldn’t be much of a band left then. 

And apart from that, Paul would lose his _childhood friend_ in the process as well. Was going to Paris with John worth that? So Paul tried to mediate and finally managed to get them to compromise. John and Paul _would_ go to Paris, but only for _two weeks._ It was far from an ideal solution for _anybody._ _John_ was sulking heavily, seeing his lovers-holiday with Paul cut short. And _George and Pete_ were still grumbling that they would still miss out on two weeks wages. And _Paul_ felt as he let them _all_ down.

***

They travelled to Paris on the last day of September, hitchhiking to Dover, then by boat to Calais, followed by a trip by train to Paris. Paul was excited to be abroad for the first time. Well, he actually had been abroad, playing the clubs in Hamburg, but that was work. This was a _holiday!_ To France! To Paris of all places! Apart from looking forward to visiting all of the city’s monuments and museums, the Eifel Tower and the Notre Dame, it just sounded so bloody _romantic!_

But then he found out John didn’t actually book a hotel for their stay, and they wandered the Parisian streets _for hours,_ trying to find a cheap place to stay (good thing they would only be here for 2 weeks instead of a month, because they would _never_ have been able to afford that. Neither of them had realized staying in Paris would be so expensive!) They ended up in a very basic room with a single bed in a rather worn down pension. It had a toilet and a sink, strangely not separated from the bedroom part of the room. The shower was down the corridor and had to be shared with the other guests. But it was a place to sleep and being very tired after their long travels, they fell into the bed together and soon drifted into a deep sleep.

***

Paul woke up with a rumbling stomach. They didn’t get anything to eat last night, having looked for a place to stay for so long and then feeling too tired to go out again to find a restaurant. “John? Johnny? Are you awake yet? Because I am. And I’m hungry.” During the night Paul had been spooning John, and the man now turned in his arms to face him. “Yeah, awake and hungry as well. Maybe we should get up and try to get some brekkie somewhere?” 

”It’s called “petit déjeuner” over here “mon amour” and I’d love to try a _croissant._ _Heard_ about them, but never _had_ one. They’re supposed to be good.” John moaned “Oh do that again, baby.” Paul raised his eyebrows. “Do _what_ again?” _“French._ Speak _French_ to me. It turns me on.” But as John tried to pull Paul into a heated kiss, Paul jumped out of their cosy bed. “Not now John, I’m _hungry!_ Let’s get some “petit déjeuner” so rise and shine Johnny, _mon amour!”_

They found a café on the left bank that served a “petit déjeuner” and advertised it as “continental breakfast” in English. The fact they apparently spoke English was quite handy, since Paul’s knowledge of the French language was very, _very basic,_ and John’s was _non-existing_ at all. But the extent of the English language seemed to stop there, because when Paul tried to find out what “votre choix de nos boissons chauds” meant, it took the waiter a lot of miming and pointing to other customers before Paul understood it meant they could _choose a hot drink_ with their croissant. 

“My God, this is _amazing!_ I could eat a whole bunch of them!” Paul exclaimed when he had taken the first bite of his croissant with strawberry jam. “You’re right Macca, it’s absolutely _heavenly!_ And the hot chocolate is great as well. I could get used to this kind of _continental breakfast!”_ They both decided to order another croissant, not having eaten anything last night had made them rather hungry, before they decided to explore Paris. 

Luckily John had taken a map of Paris at the Calais port upon their arrival there, so they didn’t get lost. Not _often_ anyway. They did find their way around. _Sometimes_ anyway. Paul discovered John was an absolute _disaster_ when it came to reading a map. After the umpteenth time of _not_ reaching their desired destination, Paul grabbed the map from John’s hands. “For heaven’s sake John, give me that thing! We’re _never_ going to find the Eifel Tower before the end of our holiday if we go on like this!” Paul’s map-reading abilities turned out to be a lot better that John’s, and they managed to reach the Eifel Tower after a brisk walk through the city. 

They climbed the stairs to the observation platform, where they were treated to an amazing view of Paris. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Paul whispered in awe at the sight of the city below them. “Absolutely beautiful, never seen anything like it” John whispered back. Paul turned to John to say something, but then noticed John wasn’t looking at the city at all. “You’re _not even looking,_ John, how can you say it’s beautiful if you _don’t look_ at the city?” John smiled. “I didn’t mean _the city,_ baby.” Paul rolled his eyes. “Come on John, just enjoy _the view.”_ “I enjoy the view very, _very much_ love.” Paul grabbed John’s arm, while shaking his head. _“Paris,_ Johnny, _the view of Paris._ You might never see it again, so you better take this opportunity to enjoy it. You can look at me as often as you want.” “Do you want me too? Look at you, that is?” Paul smiled. “Yes, I do. Now look at _the city,_ you git!”

***

That night they found a little bistro they liked and tried to figure out what to eat. “Here, it says, “specialité de maison”, that surely means “specialty”, right Paul?” He pointed it out to Paul at his menu. “Yeah, it means “specialty of the house”. But it doesn’t specify _what_ it is.” “Well, Mimi always told me you should try the speciality of the house, because that’s usually their _best_ dish. Waiter!” John raised his hand to call the man to their table. 

“Maybe we should ask what the “specialty of the house” _is exactly,_ before ordering it?” Paul asked John doubtfully. “Well, you can try it if you can.” “Eh, garçon, qu’est-ce-que c’est la specialité de maison?” Paul managed to ask what the dish was in his best French, causing John to look at him with love-struck eyes. But he didn’t really understand the waiter’s answer and of course neither did John. “I still don’t know, John. What do you think we should do?” “Let’s just order it, Macca, can’t be that bad, can it now, if it’s their best dish.” 

Paul still had doubts, but decided to order the specialty anyway. “Eh......nous voulons......la specialité de maison. Deux. Et du vin rouge”. Paul ordered their two dishes and some red wine. “You’re _so sexy_ when you speak French” John said, looking at Paul with love-struck eyes again, after the waiter brought them their wine and deliciously smelling, freshly baked French bread. Paul frowned a bit worriedly. “I just hope their specialty is any good. I’m not in favour of ordering something without knowing what it is exactly.” 

They soon found out what the specialty of the house was, when the waiter put down two plates of...... “Votre _escargots_ , monsieurs, bon appétit.” ...... _snails._ Paul couldn’t put another word to it. _Snails. In their shells._ He looked at John in horror, only to find out John’s expression was just as horrified as his own, while he picked up a tong in one hand, and a very narrow fork in the other. “You’ve ordered us _snails,_ Macca? Really, _snails?”_

“Hey, it’s not my fault! _You_ said we should order the specialty!” John put the tong and fork down. “Well, I’m not going to eat _slimy things that crawl around in a garden.”_ He shoved his plate to the side. “I will just eat the bread” and he placed the basket of French bread in front of him, and put a piece in his mouth. “Hey, leave some for _me,_ will you! I’m not going to eat these.......escargots thingies either. It’s all _your fault,_ you know, _“Always try the specialty of the house, because that’s their best dish” Best dish, my arse!”_ “Well we should blame Mimi then, since she’s the one who told me to do so. And just for the record, your arse is _definitely_ the best dish of the house!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More about the McLennon's adventures in Paris in the next chapter!


	38. A GERMAN AND TWO ENGLISHMEN IN PARIS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> More of John and Paul's adventures in Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

They walked back to their pension, hungry, because they only had some bread, afraid to order something else to eat. After all, who knew what they would end up with! At least the wine had been good. Ordinary wine, but still good. They had a few glasses each, which resulted in them being _slightly_ tipsy. John placed his arm around Paul’s shoulder, hugging him to his side. Paul tried to shrug John’s arm off. “Watch it John, if somebody sees us like this, we could be in big trouble!” 

But John held on to Paul’s shoulder tightly. “Haven’t you noticed? _All men_ walk around with their arms around each other’s shoulders. I suppose it’s a normal thing to do in France.” Paul’s looked around, and indeed, John was right! He saw men walking with their arms around each other _everywhere!_ So Paul put his arm around John as well. It felt so good to walk around like that, out in the open, without being afraid of someone judging them. 

They made love passionately that night, rubbing their cocks together franticly, kissing feverishly, coming together in ecstasy. Afterwards, lying on their sides facing each other, John’s fingers kept touching Paul’s eyebrows, tracing them tenderly, for a long time. Paul, feeling completely relaxed by his lover’s soft actions, whispered “What are you doing, Johnny?” _“Your eyebrows._ They’re so _fucking perfect,_ how can they be so perfect without you plucking them? Did you ever wonder about that? They’re the most _perfect_ eyebrows I’ve ever seen. And they’re so _talkative,_ you can express all your feelings, just by moving them. It’s _amazing,_ really.” 

Paul wanted to say something back, but John then started to trace his lips with his fingers. “And your _lips_.......so lush, so kissable.” He softly pinched Paul’s nose. “And your _nose_. It’s such a sweet, lovely nose. I just want to punch it all day long. He then ran his hands through Paul’s hair. “And your _hair_......so dark, so luscious, thick, like velvet. Sometimes I really got to stop myself from running my fingers through it in public.” He tenderly brushed a stray lock from Paul’s forehead. “And your _eyes!_ The longest natural lashes I’ve _ever_ seen. And the most _amazing_ colour! And the colour just keeps changing all of the time, like a kaleidoscope. Brown, green, hazel, gold, black.......so mesmerizing. So fuckin’ beautiful! And _I’m_ the lucky one who gets to look into them every day. You know, I’ve decided that the last thing I want to see before I die, are your eyes.”

Paul had let John’s words and actions embrace him like a warm, soft blanket. “You’re not so bad yourself, Johnny boy.” He traced John’s lips with his thumb. “Your _mouth_ is just _delicious_.....” “My lips are way too thin.” “......I _love_ your mouth, especially when you smile and reveal those _perfect teeth_......” “They’re crooked at the front” “.....the most _beautiful_ smile you have.” Paul’s traced John’s nose with a single finger. “And that _proud aquiline nose_.......” “It’s much too big, it dominates my entire face” “......like I’ve said before, like a Roman emperor, so _strong and masculine.”_

“And your _eyes_ ......””I have very bad eyesight” “......like almonds, with the colour of a good whisky, so much _love_ in them as well.” He ran his fingers through John’s hair. “And your hair has the most _amazing colour_ , a lovely warm auburn, but when the sun touches it, it shines like a reddish gold. _So beautiful._ And so incredibly soft......” “It’s way too thin, I will probably go bold at a young age.” Paul kept stroking John’s hair. “Well, _with or without hair_ Johnny, you will always be _the most beautiful man in the world_ to me.”

***

The next day they decided to go to the Louvre, a museum Paul really loved to visit. “I just _can’t wait_ to see the Mona Lisa, John! It’s Leonardo da Vinci’s _masterwork,_ and one of the greatest paintings in history!” They sauntered around the museum, not only admiring all the works of art, but also the building itself. “Did you know it was built as a castle as far back as the _Middle Ages?_ The Knights Templar used to live here. And later it became a Royal Palace. Parts of it were destroyed and then rebuilt and lots of kings lived here, before it became a museum. Just _imagine_ the stories these walls could tell!” John chuckled at seeing Paul so excited and happy. John loved seeing Paul so happy. Good decision, taking him to Paris.

They reached the 7th hall of the Denon wing of the museum, where Da Vinci’s masterwork was displayed. They stood in front of the painting for some time, before Paul said “I think it’s a bit disappointing, it’s so......so...... _small._ I somehow expected it to be a lot larger. And she really isn’t very _pretty,_ is she?” John heard the disappointment in Paul’s voice and tried to cheer him up a bit. “Yeah it is rather small, isn’t it? But it’s still one of the greatest paintings ever, and now you can _at least_ say you’ve seen it with your own eyes. And you’re right, she’s not very pretty at all. Doesn’t even have _eyebrows! You_ would have made a so much better model!”

After the bit disappointing Mona Lisa, they decided to check out one of the other highlights of the Louvre, the Venus of Milo. “Now that’s a _beautiful sculpture._ And she’s _really pretty_ as well.” Paul studied the white marble sculpture of the ancient goddess. “I agree” John replied “but she would look _a lot better_ if she’d had both of _her arms.”_ Paul punched John in his side. “Stop it, you _barbarian!_ It’s a beautiful sculpture!”

John was a lot more enthusiastic when they stood in front of Michelangelo’s sculpture of the Dying Slave. “Now _that’s_ more like it! I really like _this one!”_ John exclaimed. “Not only has he got _all of his limbs,_ his _private parts_ are intact as well. Nice looking cock, reminds me a bit of yours.” Paul felt the colour rise to his cheeks, hoping that nobody understood John’s words. “God, John, you really are a _culture barbaric!_ Is that all you're looking at? _A sculpture’s penis?_ You wouldn’t think you went to Art College at all. And for the record, his cock doesn’t look _anything_ like mine, I don’t think he’s _circumcised.” “He isn’t?_ I’d better take a _closer_ look then.” Paul managed to stop John just in time before he put his face literally in front of the sculpture’s private parts. “I think we’d better visit a hall without any male nudes.”

***

Two days later, sitting in a little bistro, after ordering “Andouillettes de Troyes avec pommes frites” which was supposed to be sausages with French fries, as Paul understood after the waiter’s explanation, sipping their glasses of red wine, Paul suddenly cried out: “John, look, it’s Jürgen!” John, not wearing his glasses, tried to look through the window searching for Jürgen, but didn’t spot him of course. Paul stood up from their table and ran outside, shouting out Jürgen’s name. “Paul! What are you doing _here,_ all alone in Paris?” “I’m not alone, John’s here as well, we’re right inside that bistro, waiting for our food to arrive. But what on earth are _you_ doing here? Wait, let’s get inside, that is if you have some time to spare, so we can talk.” 

“Well, I’ll be damned! _Jürgen Vollmer!_ Didn’t expect to see you here!” John hugged their old friend from Hamburg. “I’ve been here for quite some time, studying photography, I rent a room in the Montmartre District. But what are _you two_ doing here?” “We’ve been here for a couple of days now. On holiday, celebrating my 21st birthday.” Their plates arrived and after the waiter left, Jürgen frowned. “You like andouillettes?” John and Paul looked at their sausages. “What’s wrong with sausages then?” John asked as he cut his sausage in half, revealing little whitish thingies to fall out. He winced at the sight of it. Not exactly what he expected. “Nothing’s wrong with it. That is if you like _porc intestines and stomachs…..”_

***

After John and Paul finished their wine and their French fries, shoving the andouillettes aside (“It’s your fault, Paul, you told me they were sausages” “The waiter said they were “saucisses” John, and that means sausages. How was I to know they were made of intestines and stomachs”), they left the bistro with Jürgen. “Have you two been to the l’Opera already? No? You _must_ come with me then, I think it’s the _most beautiful place_ in Paris!”

The opera house was indeed beautiful and lots of young men and women were sitting on the marble steps of the impressive building. John grabbed Paul by the waist and started to dance, swirling him around and singing in a mock opera voice. Paul joined in, singing “O Sole Mio” in mock Italian and they doubled up with laughter. They had really enjoyed their night out in Paris, except for the andouilettes of course, and made arrangements to meet up with Jürgen again the next day. He would show them around in the Montmartre district.

***

“I really like Jürgen’s hair, you know. It’s bit like what Astrid did to Stu’s hair last time when we were in Hamburg, only a bit longer. I’ve seen other men with the same haircut around the city today as well. You suppose it’s the new, hip style? They’re always _very fashionable_ in Paris, aren’t they?” Paul was stroking John’s hair, the man’s head resting on his chest after they had given each other a quick handjob. “Do you suppose it would look good on us?” 

John hummed while his fingers played with Paul’s dark chest hair. “Wanna change our hairstyle then? I don’t know about that. I really like your hair, baby.” Paul kissed John’s hair. “I like your hair as well, but…….it would mean my hands wouldn’t go all greasy when I run my fingers through it. And we would _stand out_ between all the other bands if we have a different hairstyle.” “That’s true, on both accounts. Yeah, _let’s do it!_ Let’s change our hair!”

And so the next day, after Jürgen had shown them around Montmartre and both of them had bought the hip bell-bottom trousers all young Parisians seemed to be wearing, they asked Jürgen to cut their hair in his style. He didn’t really want to do so, saying that he liked their hairstyle and that he certainly wasn’t a hairdresser, but John and Paul managed to persuade him to do it anyway. 

They liked their new hairstyle, but _hated_ their bell-bottoms, so Paul ended up taken in the bell-bottoms in their pension, reducing them to drainpipes, before they hit the road again on their way to a bistro to eat something they thought they recognized, a “steak haché”. They knew what a steak was, but the “haché” part……It turned out to be some kind of hamburger, so they were both very happy having found something on the menu that was actually _edible._ They opted for a milkshake instead of wine. _A banana milkshake._ Paul _loved_ it. “Man I could drink these all day long!” John watched Paul’s happy face as he finished the drink and butterflies occupied his stomach again. “I’ll buy you _all the banana milkshakes you want,_ baby.”

***

“Good morning birthday boy! Happy twenty-first!” John groaned “Please, could you possibly be a _little less cheerful,_ Macca? _Twenty-one!_ It’s all going _downwards_ from now on.” “Ah, but you’re all grown up now, Johnny, a real _adult._ You can actually _vote_ from now on. And get _married without consent…...”_ “I can _marry_ you? So there actually is a bright side to turning 21 then!” John joked. Paul chuckled “Well, _I’m_ not 21 yet, so I still need _my father’s consent._ I doubt he will give his consent to marrying _you!”_

He kissed John tenderly. “Do you think it will ever be possible for two men to get married, Johnny?” John caressed Paul’s cheek. “I doubt it will happen in our lifetime baby, I’m not even sure homosexuality will ever be _decriminalized.”_ John sighed. “I so wish it would. I wish I was able to shout out to the world how much I love you.” “Or just walk hand in hand with you without being afraid.” They held each other tight for a few moments and then John exclaimed: “So where’s my birthday pressie then?”

 _“Birthday pressie?_ Hey, I’m not made of money. _I_ don’t have aunts that give away 100 pound notes, you know. But I’ll buy you _a hamburger_ tonight and……..what about _a good shag?_ I can give you that.” Paul’s hand travelled across John’s body, going down towards the semi-erect cock he felt pressing against his thigh. John moaned as he took him in his hand and started stroking him. They were so attuned to each other by now, that Paul knew _exactly_ what to do to, listening to every sound the man made, noticing every movement and flexing of muscles. He kissed John deeply as he sped up his rhythm. John’s arms encircled his body. Paul relished the warmth and closeness of the familiar body. And as he stroked his lover to his climax, he whispered in John’s ear: “Happy birthday, my love.”

***

They had wandered through the Parisian streets down to the Seine. As they walked along the river, arms around each other, John felt happy and free. Walking together this close to his partner, felt so good, so perfect. But in a few days time they would have to return to Liverpool. They wouldn’t be able to hold on to each other like this out in the open in England. John watched the Seine and considered _staying in France,_ not returning to the city on the Mersey. That would mean the end of The Beatles though, and the end of their dream of making it to the top. 

“Look John, there’s _the Notre Dame!_ Isn’t it beautiful? Let’s go there, we can’t leave Paris without visiting that famous cathedral. It’s supposed to be breathtaking inside as well. _Come on,_ let’s go!” John smiled at the enthusiasm of the younger boy beside him. Paul could be such a happy little boy sometimes! So cute, innocent and _utterly adorable._ Such a far cry from the sexy, hot, _passionate lover_ he had been this morning. But John wouldn’t want it any other way, the duality Paul showed made him very interesting, a real enigma. Somebody you would _never_ get bored with.

And John had to admit: the Notre Dame was indeed _beautiful._ They walked through the aisles silently and in awe, until Paul whispered that they should burn a candle. _“Whatever for,_ Paul?” “For our mums, John” “I don’t really _believe_ in stuff like that, Macca.” “There’s no harm in doing it though, it’s just a way of _remembering_ them, _thinking_ about them, _thanking_ them.” They both ended up burning a candle and for a couple of moments they were deep in thought, two young men in their leather jackets, gazing at their candles, solemnly thinking about their mums. And even though John considered himself to be atheistic, for a split second he seemed to feel the presence of God.

***

Paul bought him a hamburger that night, just as he had promised. John knew Paul didn’t have a lot of savings and was always worried about money. But sitting at the tiny table, eating a hamburger in the city of love, with the love of his life sitting across from him, a breathtaking smile on his face, John couldn’t be more happier. 

Back at their room, Paul asked John to close his eyes. “I’ve got _a surprise_ for you, Johnny. Don’t open your eyes until I tell you to.” He heard some rustling. What was Paul up to? “You can open them now. _Tada!”_ Paul was holding out a package, neatly wrapped, although the paper was somewhat creased. It wasn’t very big, and it was flat and rectangular. “What’s _this_ then?” John asked surprised. “Your _pressie,_ of course. Didn’t think I would only give you _a hamburger_ on such a special occasion as your twenty-first, did you now? So open up!” John’s eyes went from Paul to the package and back. “Where did you get this? And when? We haven’t been apart for _a single moment_ since we’ve got to Paris.” John looked at the smiling young man questioningly. “I brought it back from Liverpool, tucked away in my luggage. I hope you like it. Now unwrap it!”

John tore the wrapping paper from the package, eager to find out what was in it. It revealed a small framed charcoal drawing of John in profile, still with his Elvis hairdo, the collar of his leather jacket turned up. It was _perfect!_ His eyes searched for a signature to find out who made it, and when he saw _“PMcC”_ written in the left corner, he looked at Paul in surprise. _“You_ did this?” Paul smiled shyly, looking down at his feet. “Yeah I did. I know it’s not very good, but……” _“Not very good?_ Paul it’s _beautiful!_ I didn’t know you could do this!” He took a step forward and hugged Paul tightly. “It’s absolutely beautiful baby, thank you so much! It’s the most beautiful present anybody has _ever_ given me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter John and Paul will return to Liverpool, where something important is bound to happen.


	39. AN IMPORTANT MEETING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John and Paul return home after their stay in Paris. And they meet someone who's going to be very important to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Of course the time arrived for them to return home. They said their goodbyes to Jürgen, thanking him for showing them around, and boarded the train to Calais. On the train ride that led them to the ferry, they didn’t talk at all, both of them plunged in their own thoughts. 

John felt sad, leaving the freedom of Paris behind him. He liked the way the French weren’t afraid to show affection, how it was normal for men to greet each other with a kiss (on the cheek of course, not on the mouth, but still, a kiss), to walk arm in arm. From now on they wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. They would have to keep their distance again, not being able to show anything more than friendship, while he so relished Paul’s closeness. There was a lot to say against the French (the language, the strange food, he still shivered at the thought of snails and pork intestines) but he loved the freedom of showing affection.

Paul felt sad as well. He had loved the days he had spend in John’s presence, not having to be accountable for spending all his time with John. He missed his dad and Mike, sure he did, but being with John had been pure bliss. Now he would have to go back to a life of _pretending._ Pretending John was nothing more than a friend, making sure George and Pete didn’t catch them doing anything that might indicate they were _more_ than friends. Pretending that the fact he didn’t have a girlfriend yet was just because of the lack of time, since the band was so busy, whenever his dad’s asked when he was going to take a girlfriend home. 

But both young men were also ready to perform again. The band was very important to them, and they shared the dream of making it big one day. And they knew they had to work hard to make that happen. So when they boarded the ferry that would bring them back to Dover, to England, they knew going back to Liverpool was the right thing to do. So they left France, with beautiful memories of Paris, memories that would stay with them the rest of their life, but looking forward to a future with their band. Determined to go to the top. With a new haircut.

***

They had laughed. _Loudly._ Telling them they looked like _girls._ Or _queers._ They didn’t know what was worse. George and Pete had mocked their new haircuts so much, John and Paul tried to comb their hair back into their old hairdo, but their hair resisted. No matter what they tried, they didn’t manage to alter it, so they decided to just stick with their new moptops, telling everybody it was way more hip then the greased back hair they had before. And of course, after a while, George decided to join them and adopted their new hairstyle, but Pete stuck to his old style. 

They resumed their schedule of lunch and evening gigs at The Cavern, and Alan Williams had also managed to get them some gigs in other clubs across town and in the Liverpool neighbourhood, and they gathered even larger audiences. Soon they grew into one of the most popular bands in Liverpool, on par with other much loved bands like Gerry and the Pacemakers and Rory Storm and the Hurricanes, both bands having performed in Hamburg as well. They had befriended them all in Germany and had a lot of fun when they were performing on the same bill. They especially liked Rory’s drummer, a lad called Ringo Starr, who looked absolutely like a star, with his beard and rings. John, Paul and George loved his drumming as well, so much better than Pete’s, pity they couldn’t have him in their band.

During the break of one of their lunchtime shows, a very neat and elegant man in his mid-to late twenties came up to them. He seemed totally out of place in the dark, steamy Cavern, wearing a dark, expensive looking black overcoat and holding a bowler hat. John looked at Paul with a puzzled a “beats-me” expression. 

“Good afternoon, young men. Let me introduce myself. My name is Brian Epstein and I run the NEMS record store. One of my customers recently asked if we had a certain record available, and since we didn’t have it in stock, I did some research. It was seemingly recorded in Germany, but I discovered it was by a Liverpudlian band, called The Beatles, that played in The Cavern Club. I ordered a couple of records and they sold out quickly. So I decided to check the band out myself. I must say I rather liked what I saw.” 

“I’m sure you did” George mumbled. John and Paul both turned to George, wondering what that remark was all about. Then John turned to the impeccably clothed man. “You did, eh? Never thought someone like _you_ would like _our music.”_ George cleared his throat and mumbled again, “Probably liked our _appearance_ more than our _performance.”_ Once again John and Paul glanced at their friend in wonderment. “Do you have a manager?” the man asked. “Well, sort of, but not really” Paul replied. “Alan Williams kind of does our bookings, if that’s considered being a manager.” 

Brian looked at him. “Well a manager does a lot more than that, Mr…...eh……” Paul decided it would be the proper thing to do to introduce themselves “Paul. Paul McCartney. This here is John Lennon, and George Harrison and our drummer, standing over there, is Pete Best.” Brian nodded. “Nice to meet you all. I think you have great potential and I’m interested in becoming your manager, if you don’t have a contract with Mr. Williams, that is. I think I will be able to get you a recording contract.”

John and Paul shared an excited glance. _“A recording contact?_ That would be really gear, wouldn’t it John?” Paul asked his partner. John nodded. “Aye, really gear! A real recording deal, you mean? _Us making records?”_ Brian nodded. “I really think you guys are special. You have something that’s…… _different._ If you decide to let me manage your band, I’ll promise to get you a recording contract.”

Paul looked at John and George. “Well, we don’t really have _a contract_ with Alan Williams, so I guess we are free to hire a manager, don’t you thinks so guys? I really like the idea of getting ourselves a recording contract. I’d _love_ to make records!” John agreed instantly “Yeah, so when can you start then? The sooner we find ourselves in a recording studio, the better, right Paulie?” 

But then George suddenly turned to his band mates. “Can I talk to the two of you before we make such an important decision?” John and Paul looked at George in wonderment again. “Okay…….will you excuse us for a moment, Mr. Epstein?” John said, as he grabbed George’s arm and nodded for Paul to come along as well.

“What’s _wrong_ with you George? We’ve got a chance to get ourselves _a recording deal_ and you’re acting all weird!” Paul asked his friend. “Yeah, I’d like to know what your _problem_ is!” John sounded irritated. “Well, haven’t you heard the rumours about Mr. Epstein, then? It’s said that he’s _a queer!_ The reason he likes us probably has nothing to do with him liking _our music._ A man like that doesn’t like music like ours. He probably gets a kick out of _boys clad in leather_. It’s unnatural and filthy. I don’t think I want _a queer Jew_ as our manager!”

***

Paul felt like he was stabbed in his heart. So _that’s_ what George thought about homosexuals. They were _unnatural and filthy._ That meant that, according to George, _he_ was unnatural and filthy. He was surprised how much George’s words hurt him. Confused him. _Was_ he unnatural and filthy? _Was_ the love he felt for John wrong? So many people thought so. It was illegal. _A crime._ But why didn’t it feel unnatural and filthy to him? It felt so _right!_

He turned to John to see his reaction to George’s words. John’s lips were a thin line, his eyes black with anger. _“What the fuck,_ Harrison? The man can give us a recording contract. Are we supposed to pass out on getting a recording deal because _your tender soul_ can’t handle dealing with a _queer Jew?_ You’ve got to be joking, man! It’s not like he’s going to sexually assault us, or something like that, for crying out loud! He’s going to be _our manager,_ right Paul?” 

Paul nodded his head in confirmation to John’s words. “So you better get your act together, son, since we’re gonna hire him to manage us. And if you don’t like that, _too bad!_ You can always leave the band, _nobody_ will force you to stay!”

Paul was shocked. “John, there’s no reason to be so blunt! I’m sure George isn’t _so homophobic_ as to not see what a great chance this is for us, right George?” He sent George a pleading look, hoping George would say he _wasn’t really_ homophobic, but George didn’t withdraw his words. “I don’t like queers, Paul. I mean, just the thought of a man having sex with another man makes me shiver. It really is _not normal_ , that’s why it is a crime. What if the man tries to have a go at one of us?”

“Well, George, I’m quite sure he wouldn’t be interested in a skeleton with way too big teeth like _you_ are, so you don’t have to worry about that.” George’s cheeks turned red as he angrily responded “You would like him to get his hands on you then, Lennon?” Paul realized he had to jump in before things could really get out of hand. 

“Come on you two. Let’s not argue. I’m sure the man will keep his hands of _off all of us._ He owns a record shop, so he probably has connections in the record industry, which can get us a recording contract. _That’s_ what we all want, don’t we? We shouldn’t let he man’s sexual preferences get in the way of this opportunity. How often do we get opportunities like this one? I think we should just say yes. Don’t you think so Johnny?” 

John patted Paul’s shoulder. “Yeah, Paul and I both agree we should take Mr. Epstein on as our manager, George, and since we are the leaders of our band, that’s what we’ll do. You can either take it or leave it.” Paul looked at George again “Come on, George, just say you agree with us. We’ve come _so far together_ , we don’t want you to quit the band. _Please say yes?”_

John looked as he was going to say something unpleasant, but Paul shushed him. “George?” Paul’s eyes pleaded with George’s. “Okay, he can manage us. But I _don’t_ want him in our dressing room and if he tries to touch me in any way, I will give him a piece of my mind, _the dirty queer.”_ Paul swallowed at George’s harsh words, because knowing how George felt about homosexuality hurt him deeply. “Then let’s go tell him we want him as our manager.”

***

“I _really_ wanted to beat him to pulp. I saw how much his words hurt you. I had _no idea_ he had such homophobic ideas.” John’s hand drew circles on Paul’s shoulder, as Paul’s dark head lay on his chest. They had made love and the total satisfaction was making them both sleepy. He heard Paul sigh.

“Yeah, it hurts to know your best friend thinks you’re unnatural and filthy.” “Hey! I’m supposed to be your best friend, not Harrison!” Paul chuckled and tenderly kissed his chest. “You’re my _lover_ , John, my _boyfriend._ That’s a lot better than just being my _best friend.”_

John pouted. “But I also want to be your best friend. I want to be _all to you:_ lover, boyfriend, best friend, musical partner, bandmate, soulmate…….I want to be _everything to you.”_ “You _are_ everything to me, John. _Everything and more.”_ Paul looked up to him and awarded him with one of those smiles that always melted his heart.

John sighed contented. “God, I’m so happy. Lying here with the most beautiful boy in the whole world in my arms. And the most talented one. And the sweetest one. And the sexiest one. _How lucky_ can one guy get? And on top of that we’re on our way to get a recording deal! You and me, Paulie, we’re going to the top together!” 

He nuzzled Paul’s hair. He loved the thick, silky dark locks, which always smelled of coconut. “I wish I could let the whole world know how much I love you. Wish I could shout it from the highest mountain for the entire human race to know that you’re mine. I _hate_ having to keep my feelings for you a constant secret.”

“We have no choice, Johnny. If our relationship would come out……the things that could happen to us…….We’d lose our friends and family, the band, our freedom even…….Do you think things will ever change? That one day same-sex relationships will not be a crime anymore? That people will accept us as we are? That _our love_ will be accepted?” 

Paul’s voice sounded a bit wobbly, as if he was about to burst out in tears. John hated to see Paul sad. The world was hurting the man he loved. And there was nothing he could do about it. “I wish I knew, baby. I hope so, but I’m afraid it’ll take a long time before that becomes a reality. But you know what? I don’t care, as long as I have you by my side, I can take it. Please don’t ever leave me.” He felt Paul softly squeeze his hand. “Never, Johnny, I will never leave you. I’ll stay with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

***

One of the first things Brian told them to do, was to change their outfits. “If you want to get yourselves a record deal, you will have to be _presentable._ Those leather outfits you’re wearing look really good on you, but it might scare off the record companies. It would be much better to wear _suits.”_ John almost threw a tantrum. _Almost._ Paul managed to stop him just in time by putting his hand on John’s arm and telling Brian they would have to think about it and that they would come back to him on the subject. 

“I’m not gonna wear a _bloody suit,_ Paul! Paul ruffled his hair. Long hair now, since they had recently changed their hairdos from a greased quiff to a longish, clean moptop. John and Paul had been offended by George and Pete’s mockery about that; they rather _liked_ their new moptops, especially because it felt so nice running their fingers through each other’s soft, clean locks. But of course _that_ was something they couldn’t tell George. They just pretended not to care about the mockery of their band mates and stuck to their new hairdos. 

“It’s not gonna be _regular suits,_ Johnny. We’re gonna make sure the suits are _different, modern,_ like…….tight trousers and trendy boots. We’re gonna stand out and still be acceptable to the big suits from the record companies. I think we should go with what Brian says, because he knows what’s best for us to do to get a record deal. But we also tell him we want _our suits_ to be different than _the average suits._ We want _our own style._ And when we’ve achieved our goal, getting a record deal, we can always reconsider our clothing style. But let’s _first_ make sure we get a contract, right, Johnny?”

John, staring out of the window of their apartment, felt his anger slowly slip away at Paul’s soothing voice, and when the younger man stood behind him, slipping his arms around his waist, kissing his neck softly, tenderly, John felt himself relax completely in the boy’s embrace, all the anger gone. “When did you become such a _wise old man,_ eh, Macca?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Brian has entered their lives. And with him some changes as well.


	40. A CHANGE OF STYLE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> With Brian as their manager, things start to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

So they told Brian they would go for the suits idea. “But we want them to be _trendy, different, tight-cut,_ not like boring old men’s suits. You know, the suit’s trousers should look more like drainies, or leather pants, you know, skin tight? We don’t want to look like we wear our father’s clothes. We want to look young, and gear, and..….and…....well you know what I mean.” 

Paul had sold their version of what they wanted to look like to Brian with such enthusiasm that their manager couldn’t do anything else but agree with the young man. And not long after, the Beatles found themselves at the shop of an expensive tailor, having their sizes measured.

“This is going to cost quite a bit, Johnny, I’m not sure we can afford this.” Paul had worriedly whispered in John’s ear. “Hey, Mr. Epstein, this is all very well, but we’re not exactly made of money. Not yet, anyway. How do you suppose we’re going to pay for these fancy clothes?” John had addressed their manager, who was standing by, looking at them being measured, much to George’s dislike. 

“Don’t worry about that, John” Brian reassured him. “I’ll pay for the suits. After all, it was my suggestion you guys chancing your clothing style.” John grinned at Paul “You hear that Paulie, Mr. Epstein is going to pay for us. Looks like we are “Kept Boys” from now on!” George let out a disapproving sound and mumbled, so only his band mates could hear: “He’d better keep his hands of us, though!”

***

A few weeks later they gathered at the tailor’s shop again. They were trying on their new tailor made suits, and John couldn’t help but staring at Paul. Boy, did he look good in his tight fitted suit! No scratch that, he didn’t look good, he looked _drop dead gorgeous!_ Those endlessly long legs and that firm, round arse were perfectly accentuated by those trousers, and the dark coloured suit made his beautiful ivory skin stand out even more than usual. And together with the dark moptop of silky hair, the mesmerizing hazel eyes with those long eyelashes and perfectly shaped eyebrows, and those luscious lips, Paul looked _absolutely delicious._ John felt his cock stir, and butterflies started occupying his stomach. Damn, he wished he could slam Paul against the wall right now, attacking those lips and grinding their cocks together. 

“John? John, did you hear me? What do you think?” John awoke from his reverie to find Paul looking at him expectedly. “What do I think? About what?” Paul sighed deeply. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you now, Lennon? What do you think of the suit? Do you think it might be too tight? I’m not sure if I can bend in it without ripping the seams.” 

John felt like he was drooling, thinking how Paul’s arse would look, bending down in those tight trousers. It couldn’t _possibly_ be tight enough, as far as he was concerned! But he could hardly say that in front of Pete, George, Brian and the tailor, could he now? “I think it looks great, Paul. Yeah, those trousers are tight, but that’s exactly what we wanted, right? Not a boring old man’s suit. It looks very…….gear!” He’d almost said “sexy” but managed to stop himself just in time.

And now all four of them stood there in the shop, looking at each other and at themselves in the mirrors, seeing a completely different Beatles. Was this really _them?_ Sure they looked pretty good in those suits, but it was such a change from their leather image! They might look a lot more acceptable to the men in charge that were going to consider giving them a record deal, but what would their audience think? Would their fans, and they had quite a few by now, consider this change of style a sell out? Even though the suits were quite trendy? 

“You look absolutely perfect, boys. I think I will be much more able to sell you to a record company this way.” Brian looked at them approvingly. He saw John and Paul exchange a silent, meaningful look, as if they were talking to each other without words. He saw Paul giving John a very slight nod. “Well, you’d better get to work then, Mr. Epstein, and get us a recording contract, so we didn’t squeeze into these suits for nothing, right guys?” John exclaimed to them all. “Where are we going, guys?” Paul, George and Pete answered his question “To the toppermost of the poppermost!” 

They all laughed happily. Was it really going to happen? Were they really going to have their big break now? And in between all the laughter, Brian saw John and Paul exchange that look again. He felt his heart twinge. He could see it clearly. Those boys were _together._ And being a homosexual man himself, he knew very well what that meant. This might turn out to be a problem.

***

So that Saturday night was going to be the first time they were going to perform in their new outfits. They were very nervous about the audience’s reaction to their new image, fearing their fans might be angry about them dropping the leather. John and Paul had asked Steve and Dusty to come and see them play, so at least there would be some friendly faces in the crowd, if it all turned to shit. Jim and Mike also came to see them. And although Paul’s dad seemed totally out of place in the dark, damp Cavern, he was very proud of his son, standing on the small stage in his new, beautiful tailored suit. So much better than the leather outfits. He did find the trousers a bit too tight, though. 

“That’s _my son Paul,_ the handsome young man with the bass guitar” Jim told everybody who wanted to listen. “He’s got such a good voice doesn’t he? He actually writes songs as well, together with John Lennon. It’s not exactly my kind of music, but they’re still _very good_ aren’t they? And don’t they all look really smart in their new suits?”

Mike had brought his camera, a present from Paul upon his return from Hamburg, and took dozens of photographs of the band, while enjoying their performance. He _really_ loved their music and his brother looked _absolutely fabulous_ in that suit. Mike decided he should ask Paul to pose some more in front of his camera. He would make a fantastic model. And although there were indeed some boos from several fans, most of them just sang and danced along with their music as always. 

After the show Brian introduced himself to Paul’s dad. “You’ve got a very talented son, sir, you must be really proud of him.” Jim had nodded in agreement. “Paul’s told me you are going to get them a recording contract. That would be really wonderful. My Paul is very excited about it, and he really deserves to be in the spotlight. I hope you realize just how important he is for the band, and that you will take good care of my boy. Anyway, I like what you have done with the boys’ clothes. They look so much better without the leather they were always wearing, although I do think their trousers are a bit on the tight side.” 

“I most certainly will take good care of Paul and his friends, Mr. McCartney, and I will try my very best to get them a good record deal. I’m convinced I’ll succeed, they are so original and talented. And good looking on top of that. I’m sure all record companies in London will be fighting over them.” Paul’s dad had hummed in agreement. “Well, as long as you make sure they get a good deal financially, but I guess you’ll be able to do that, won’t you, being Jewish and all.” 

Paul overheard his father’s last words. _“Dad!_ You can’t say that!” he said horrified. Jim turned to his son. “Why not son? Jews are known to be good with money, nothing wrong with that.” Paul showed Brian an apologetic face. “Sorry about that, Mr. Epstein.” Brian smiled at the young man. “It’s okay, Paul, I’m used to it.” He turned to the older McCartney again. “Don’t worry Mr. McCartney, I’ll make sure your son will earn good money. All _he_ has to do is keep on making music with the other lads, and _I_ will take care of the rest.”

***

“I was so embarrassed by dad’s remark about Jews being good with money!” They were lying in bed together, after a good make-out session that had left both of them completely satisfied. “Whatever for, baby? It’s true isn’t it? Jews _are_ good with money. And I guess a queer Jew who has a crush on the guys in the band he’s managing, will do anything to give them a good deal.”

 _“John!_ You don’t know if he has a crush on us! We might not be his types at all!” John grinned. “I got news for you, Macca. You are _everybody’s_ type!” 

Paul chuckled. “Actually, the vibe I get from him, is that he rather fancies _you,_ Johnny boy!” John looked at him like he was deeply offended. “No way, Macca, no way he’s interested in me!” “I wouldn’t be so sure of it, Johnny. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It doesn’t really matter though, as long as you remember that you’re mine.” “Baby, why would I even _consider_ another man, when _I‘ve already got_ the most beautiful man in the world?” He kissed Paul’s hair. “Now let’s get some sleep, baby.”

They cuddled up, holding each other tightly, Paul’s head resting on John’s chest, John nuzzling Paul’s dark locks, that smelled like the coconut shampoo he always used. They felt so completely at ease with each other. This was meant to be, they were both so sure about it. And they were going to the top together, they could feel it in their bones. But how that would affect their relationship, that was something they didn’t worry about. As far as they were concerned, _nothing_ was going to change their world. Nothing would change the way the felt about each other. _Not ever._

***

They kept playing at the Cavern. Some of their fans were disappointed at their change of clothes and deserted them, feeling The Beatles had sold their souls in their pursuit for a record contract. But the majority kept coming to see them and they had gathered an even larger amount of new fans, that had grown even more enthusiastic. More and more girls started to scream their names, and after their shows, the boys found themselves surrounded by devoted fan girls. Some of the boys in the audience started to wear their hair just like them as well. 

In the meantime, John and Paul were writing more and more songs together, and those were very well received by their fans, much to their surprise. Apart from that, both young men extremely enjoyed writing together. It was a very intimate process, sitting across from each other, creating a song eyeball-to eyeball from scratch. And it was extremely satisfying to hear the completed song after seeing it develop underneath their hands.

They discovered they complemented each other very well, they were very good at finishing each other’s lyrics or musical phrases. It sometimes felt like they were two parts of the same person, each one knowing exactly how to continue the song when the other one got stuck. It was an amazing experience, that musical connexion they had. The only problem was: they always had to change the gender in the love songs they were obviously writing for and to each other. They found that to be a real bummer. Nothing to be done about that, though. As long as they both knew the words they were singing to the girls in their songs, were actually meant for each other, it didn’t really matter. 

Brian insisted they should keep writing songs together, saying that performing original songs would make them stand out between all the other bands across town, and John and Paul couldn’t agree more. They had always tried to perform the more obscure B-sides from famous artists, so they wouldn’t do the same old sets other bands did, and it had already make them stand out. Adding more of their own songs to their set list would surely give them something special the other bands didn’t have. And that was _exactly_ what they wanted: to be _extra special._

***

But not only their musical partnership was faring well, their secret love-life thrived as well, although John still longed to try anal sex. But after Paul’s suicide attempt, he realized it wouldn’t be a good idea to bring the matter up. Maybe Paul’s attitude towards it would change in time. Their sex life was still very fulfilling though, and John was still madly in love with his gorgeous boy, so he wasn’t really complaining. He couldn’t imagine a life without Paul by his side. He so wished he could share his love for him with the rest of the world, to tell everybody that the beautiful boy was his, and his alone, but he obviously couldn’t. And that frustrated him big time.

Paul was very aware of John’s longing to fuck him though, although he didn’t bring the matter up anymore. And although their love-making was extremely satisfying and John never stopped expressing his undying love for him, there was this nagging feeling in the back of his mind. What if Paul’s denial to let John fuck him would cause John to look for someone else who _would_ let him? The idea of losing John, the man he loved to the moon and back, was unbearable, and more and more Paul was trying to convince himself to get over his fears. 

But somehow he didn’t manage to do so. The memories of the things Mr. Maxwell did to him and the pain it had caused, were still so vivid. He still had nightmares about it every now and then as well, although it seemed the frequency had diminished and they didn’t turn into full blown nightmares, since John seemed to sense a nightmare coming, even while sleeping, and managed to calm him down with soft spoken words before the nightmare became really bad.

Nobody seemed to notice that they were more than just friends, everybody accepting that the reason they lived together and had no girlfriends, was because they were totally dedicated to the band and their songwriting. Living together was so much easier if you wanted to write a song together. “Just imagine having an idea for a song, and having to travel across town to have the other one help out; by the time you meet up with the other one, the idea might have fled your mind. Can you imagine all of the _great songs_ that humanity would lose out on that way?” John once explained.

“Or what if you’re in the middle of creating a great song together and your girlfriend demands your attention? A creative process shouldn’t be interrupted by trivial things like having to look at your girlfriend’s new dress” Paul had added. “Yeah, wouldn’t want a nagging girlfriend disturbing the genesis of a potential number one hit” John had said while nodding his head in Paul’s direction. “So I better keep him away from all the girls if we want to make it big.”

So all in all, they were faring well, both personally and professionally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter: audition time!


	41. THE AUDITION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> The Beatles get their much desired audition, so they're off to London. But things don't go so well.........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

And one day, Brian told them he had arranged an audition for them at Decca Records in London. They were so excited! It did require them to drive to London on New Year’s Eve, since the audition was about to take place on January the first. Neil, Paul’s schoolmate from the Inny, had become somewhat of their roadie, next to his studies to become an accountant, and drove them to London in his van. 

It was freezing, and the band cuddled together to keep warm. Not that John and Paul minded. Since they now had a legitimate reason to hold each other close in public. But when they ended up in a blizzard and Neil lost the way, causing the ride down to London taking over more than ten hours, it wasn’t that funny anymore.

They arrived in London in the early hours of January the first, so their night in the hotel that Brian had booked for them, was very short. John and Paul had looked forward to sharing a room in a hotel that was quite a bit more posh than what they were used to, but when they checked into their room, they were too exhausted to do anything else but hold each other tight, trying to warm their ice-cold bodies through body heat. 

After just a few hours of sleep, Neil drove them to the Decca studio, where the audition would take place. All four of them were very nervous, playing for just a few men in an unfamiliar setting was much more nerve-wrecking then playing for an audience of dozens in the Cavern. At least those were young people who liked them already. The old men facing them here, didn’t show any sign of enthusiasm. 

They worked their way to the repertoire Brian had chosen for them, looking at each other unsure and terrified. Paul’s usual steady voice was shaky, and John’s voice sounded flat. Pete’s drumming was as unsteady as ever, maybe even more so. And George’s fingers seemed frozen and the solos didn’t come out right. With a “Thank you gentlemen. Don’t call us, we’ll call you” they were dismissed.

“I’m not sure that went well” Paul finally sighed, as they drove back to Liverpool in Neil’s cold van, after a long, uncomfortable silence, with the four of them not daring to look at each other. They had visited a London pub after their rather disastrous audition, drinking away their sorrows without talking much, before heading back home. 

“Well Macca, I think that’s the understatement of the year” John growled back. He most certainly had a few drinks too many. “It was a fuckin’ disaster! You sang like a shivering bird! No record company will sign a band with a singer that sounds like a girl about to wet her pants!” 

Paul’s eyes widened as he looked at John in total shock. Was it really his fault the audition had been a disaster? He knew his singing hadn’t been his best, but had he been that horrible? Did he, and _he alone,_ wreck their chances? John’s harsh words had hurt him to the core, and made him feel guilty and very unsure. He didn’t know what to respond, and so he simply dropped his eyes, looking at his shoes, swallowing hard and trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. 

“Well, you weren’t exactly top notch either, Lennon” George stepped up for Paul. “As a matter of fact, you sounded very dull and totally uninspired, you stood there like you were completely frozen!” John threw George a nasty look. “You better shut up Harrison! You completely blew all the solos! You sounded like you held that guitar for the first time in you bloody life! But _Paul_ is supposed to hold us all up, to keep us together. He’s _supposed_ to be our driving force and he _completely_ screwed up!” 

Paul looked at George, feeling totally lost. John’s words had left him unsettled and confused. He never spoke to him like this, like he didn’t even like Paul, let alone love him. Was this it? The end of their relationship? Was he going to kick Paul out of the band? Out of his life? 

Paul slid away from John as far as possible, resting his head against the cold window, staring outside with tears in his eyes. They were not going to get a recording contract, and the blame was _all on him._ Why had he been so fucking nervous? He was always so composed! Performing was his _second nature!_ John was right. He was no good. No good at all. He shouldn’t be in the band, they were better off without him. There were plenty of bass players and singers out there that could do the job much, much better than him. 

And on top of that, he was not a good boyfriend either. Not letting John fuck him, like the man wanted to. John was so good looking, he could get _\- anybody_ he wanted, somebody who _would_ be willing to fulfil John’s sexual needs, somebody who didn’t have so many skeletons in the closet, somebody who wasn’t dirty, who wasn’t spoiled goods.…..John would be better off without him. The band would be better off without him. The _whole bloody world_ would be better off without him!

They arrived back home in Liverpool, cold, tired and disillusioned and Neil dropped John and Paul off at their apartment. John immediately announced he was going to sleep, looked at Paul for a moment and disappeared into their bedroom. Paul had looked at John with a desperate plea in his eyes, but didn’t dare following him and sat down on the couch. John didn’t want him anymore. _Nobody_ wanted him. He was no good. Everybody would be better off _without_ him. He felt himself drown in a black bottomless pit of despair. He stood up from the couch, took his coat and left the apartment.

***

John awoke from a deep sleep, feeling cold. Shivering, he turned around to lie closer to Paul, to warm himself up. Paul always was like a human radiator. But Paul wasn’t there, his spot in their bed was empty. And cold. Very cold. Like he had left the bed some time ago already. Maybe he was in the shower already? John looked at the alarm clock. 2 o’clock in the morning. No time to get up at all. Did Paul even come to bed? John couldn’t remember; he had been tired, angry and drunk when he’d gone to bed, leaving Paul in the living room, and had fallen asleep almost immediately. 

Shivering he decided to check the living room, covering himself with the blanket. Would Paul have fallen asleep on the couch? But he found the couch empty, deprived of his boyfriend. Where the fuck was Paul?

He checked the bathroom, just in case, but found that empty as well. “Paul? Paul where are you?” he heard himself calling. Stupid, really. There weren’t any more rooms in their apartment where Paul could be. His eyes landed on the coat rack. Paul’s coat was gone. The new one he had given Paul for Christmas. Had Paul gone _out?_ In the middle of the night? Why on earth would he.…..? He tried to remember yesterday’s events, but he felt hung over and had a splitting headache. 

The audition. God, they had _totally_ blown the audition. He had been so nervous that he had hardly been able to sing. He had to concentrate so hard trying to remember the words, that he hadn’t been able to give an inspired performance. And his fingers had appeared to be frozen and not able to strum the right chords. He had _really_ screwed up! He had let the band down, he had let _Paul_ down. But…….he suddenly remembered Paul’s face, shocked and confused, after he had……he had blamed Paul for their failure. Sure Paul hadn’t been his best either, but he had laid _all the blame_ on Paul. 

And then he remembered the look in Paul’s eyes, just before he had walked into the bedroom. A look of _despair._ A look he had seen before. A look he had seen on his lover’s face before he had ran out of the Cavern, many months ago. A look of pained despair before he ran off to the docks and tried to.…..

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ John panicked and ran back to the bedroom, hastily putting on some clothes and leaving the apartment as if haunted by all the dogs of hell. He had to get to Paul! He had _to stop him!_ What had he done to Paul? Why hadn’t he seen the _signs?_ Oh God, please let him get to Paul on time! Oh God……..

***

Paul’s feet led him to the docks. To the water. The dark, cold water that could wash away all the pain, all the memories, all the heartache. John didn’t love him anymore and would soon leave him and throw him out of the band. And he would be alone again, alone with those terrible memories, in a world without John by his side. _A world without love._ He couldn’t live like that again, he knew he couldn’t. He looked down at the dark water again. The water that could finally end his suffering. It looked so _inviting……._

He took a step forward. _Just do it,_ Paul, he told himself, _you know it’s the right thing to do_. For everybody’s sake. There will be no more pain…….He took another step, then hesitated. His hand caressed the fabric of his coat. _His new coat,_ a Christmas gift from John. His old winter coat had been completely worn down and John had bought him this one, a beautiful, warm, dark blue coat as a Christmas present. 

Paul had been so happy with it, he had thrown his arms around John’s neck and kissed him, telling him how beautiful the coat was. He looked at the coat again. Just over a week old. Shame to let it go to waste. It would be totally ruined by the water. That wasn’t right now, was it? It could be of good use for somebody else, like maybe Mike? Or George? 

Paul took off his coat, feeling the soft fabric with trembling fingers, neatly folding it and then laid it on the pavement, next to his feet. His feet covered by a pair of relatively new shoes. _Nice ankle boots_ that went so well with his trendy suit. Shame to let those shoes go to waste. What size did Mike have? Maybe he could wear them. John wouldn’t be able to, he had a smaller size than Paul. But Mike could grow in to them. Shame to ruin a good pair of shoes if Mike could use them. So Paul took off his shoes and placed them next to the neatly folded coat.

What about _his suit?_ It had been very expensive and tailor made. But therein laid the problem, it was tailor made, so it wouldn’t fit anybody else. He was taller than George and John. He was also slimmer than John, and George was skinnier than Paul. So they wouldn’t fit into the suit. Mike might grow into it, but then again, he wouldn’t, and what’s more, Mike in a suit? He grinned at the image of his younger brother in a suit. No that wouldn’t do. But wouldn’t Brian be angry if he ruined his suit? After all, their manager had paid for the expensive piece of clothing. But then again, _he wouldn’t be there_ to witness Brian’s anger, would he? So it didn’t really matter, did it now? 

He took another step forward, another step closer to the inviting water, closer to the end of his pain. And just before he took his last step he heard a voice. A voice from many, many months ago. _Dusty’s voice._ “If you ever feel down, or you don’t know how to cope with things, don’t hesitate to come over to our place. You can always talk to us, about anything.” 

But what good would that do? John would still leave him. Kick him out of the band. Out of his life. And he would be alone again. _Alone_ with the awful memories of sexual abuse. _Alone_ with the nightmares filled with fear and pain. _No John_ to hold him tight, _no John_ to calm him down, _no John_ to ease the pain. He would have to live his life without the love of his life. _Nothing_ could change that. Not even talking to Dusty and Steve. He would have to live _without John._ He _couldn’t_ live without John. Paul took a deep breath and closed his eyes……

***

John’s mind was swirling with thoughts, as he ran down the dark streets of Liverpool. Why, oh why had he said such hurtful things to Paul? Things that _\- weren’t_ true, that he didn’t _mean?_ Just so he wouldn’t feel guilty _himself_ over fucking up the audition? Why hadn’t he noticed the depression that had overtaken Paul completely after his harsh words? The boy had looked totally lost and forlorn, confused, hurt, sad…… _so sad._

And the look in his eyes, after John had told him he was going to bed, that _desperate_ look…….Dusty and Steve would never forgive him if something would happen to Paul. After all, he _promised_ them to look after Paul. 

And _Jim McCartney……._ Jim never liked him all that much anyway, thinking he was a bad influence on his precious son, and he would certainly _blame John_ if Paul……And _Mike!_ The poor boy had already lost his mother, and now he would lose his brother as well and he would probably blame John as well. 

And _George……_ George had always felt like John had taken his place as Paul’s best friend. John always felt a kind of reproach from George about that. He would _certainly_ blame John. But most of all……he would blame _himself_ if something happened to Paul. He would _never_ forgive himself…………Oh God, please let him get to Paul in time!

He loved him so much! Paul meant _the world_ to him. He knew Paul was vulnerable. After all, he had tried to kill himself twice. And he, John, had sworn a solemn oath, not only to Dusty and Steve, but most importantly, to himself, to make sure Paul would _never_ try to take his own life again. To make sure Paul would be happy and feel loved and cherished by him. He wanted nothing more than to grow old with that alluring boy. That gorgeous, loving young man, so full of life, music and passion.

The man that sometimes was a mystery to him, yet at the same time he knew so well. The only person in the world that _really knew_ him. Really _understood_ him. Really _loved_ him. Living without him was simply impossible. Why did he push away the one person in his life that loved him unconditionally? The one person in his life that _he_ loved unconditionally? His _true soulmate?_ Oh God, please let him get to Paul in time! He had to stop Paul from taking his own life! _He had to!_

Out of breath he reached the docks, his eyes searching the quays to find Paul. But he didn’t see him anywhere! Maybe Paul didn’t go to the docks after all? Maybe he had been worried for nothing? Or maybe…….maybe, oh God, he couldn’t bear thinking about it……maybe he was _too late?_ Oh no, God, please……..He ran along the quays and started shouting Paul’s name. “Paul! Paul! Where are you? Paul! Paul! Answer me! It’s me, John! I’m so sorry for what I’ve said! I didn’t mean any of it! I’m _so fuckin’ sorry!_ Please answer me! Where are you? _Paul! Pau…….”_

John suddenly froze. There, at the edge of the quay, in the pale light of the full moon, were a pair of shoes and a pile of……dark blue fabric. The colour of the coat he had given Paul at Christmas. The coat that looked so good on him. The coat Paul had been so happy with. The coat that was now lying on the ground, neatly folded, without its owner, next to the shoes, without their owner…….without Paul…… _”Nooooooo! Paul!!!! Nooooo!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John is too late to save Paul's life. How will that affect him and those around him?


	42. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE WITHOUT YOU?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John has arrived too late. Paul is gone. How will he deal with that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John fell to his knees in front of the coat and the shoes, his hands pulling his hair. _“Paul! Noooo, please!!!”_ He bent forwards, burying his head in Paul’s coat, his body shaking all over, and started sobbing uncontrollably. “No, no, no, no, Paul, Paul, Paul.....”

He arrived too late, Paul was gone. _Gone forever._ Gone because John hadn’t seen his despair in time. Despair because of the things _he_ had said. Things he didn’t mean at all. Things he had only said because he was so disappointed in himself and because he had too much to drink. He had driven Paul to his death...... _Paul was dead, because of him._ The love of his life was gone.......What had he done?

He sat up, clutching the navy blue coat to his chest. Paul had been so happy when he had given it to him as a Christmas present. And it had looked so good on him. But then again, Paul looked good in everything. And now he would _never_ see him again. 

He would _never_ see those kaleidoscope eyes twinkle as he granted John one of his sunny smiles. He would _never_ feel those soft lips on his again, _never_ hear that sexy voice whisper “Johnny” again. _Never_ see those elegant fingers strumming the strings of his guitar or dancing across the keys of a piano. _Never_ smell that addictive scent that was so purely Paul. _Never_ sleep in those long, strong arms again. Paul was gone. How was he supposed to live without him?

***

“Steve, wake up, wake up! Someone’s knocking at the door! _Steve!”_ Dusty sat up on the bed and shook his partner awake, who proceeded to look at the alarm clock. “Go back to sleep, love. It’s three in the morning, you must have dreamt it. Nobody knocks at the door at _three in the morning.”_ Steve turned around in the bed, clutching the blanket to his chin. “I guess you’re right, I must have dreamt” Dusty mumbled, “It seemed so real, though.” But as he wanted to lie down again, he heard it again, and Eddie started barking as well. “Steve, Steve, I’m not dreaming! _Someone’s at the door!”_

Steve sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. “That’s weird, who comes to our door in the middle of the night? Do you suppose we should see who it is? Or maybe just ignore it, after all, it might be someone that hasn’t got the best intentions.” Eddie kept on barking, however, and both Dusty and Steve got out of bed, put on their dressing gowns, and went downstairs. “Wait a minute, I’ll just get something” Steve told Dusty. He went into the living room and came back with the fire poker. “Just in case” he told Dusty, who looked at him with puzzled eyes. 

Together they sneaked to the front door, both of them leaping when it was knocked on again. They looked at each other nervously, while Eddie kept barking and jumping around their feet. “Who is it?” Dusty asked with a shaky voice. No answer came, and he looked at Steve with questioning eyes. “Should we open the door?” 

“You open the door, and I will be ready with the poker if it’s someone we don’t trust.” Steve raised the poker as Dusty unlocked the door and opened it slowly. The moonlight shone on a lone figure, standing with his back towards them, on his way to walk away. The figure turned around, and in the soft moonlight they recognized the familiar face. _“Paul?” ___

____

***

____

Jon shivered. How long had he been lying on the ground? He was very, very cold. But surely not as cold as Paul must have been, when he was drowning in that cold, dark water. He shouldn’t complain about being cold. He _deserved_ being cold. 

____

He stood up, still holding Paul’s coat, picking up his lover’s shoes, his face wet from all the tears he had cried. He looked at the grim water that had ended the life of the most beautiful and loving creature in the whole world. And had ended _his_ life as well. _Because without Paul, life wasn’t worth living_

____

***

____

“Paul, what _on earth_ are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Dusty cried out. “And without a coat and without...... _shoes?”_ Steve added astonished as he looked down at Paul’s socked feet. Paul looked at them with eyes full of despair. “I’m sorry to bother you both at this hour, I’m really, _really_ sorry. But......I have to.......I need to.......Can I please come in?” A small, shaky voice pleaded with them.

____

“Of course son, of course, come in. You must be freezing! Dusty, go put the kettle on. I think Paul needs a hot cuppa. Come in love.” Steve gestured Paul in, as Dusty went to the kitchen to make the tea. Steve put his arm around the young man’s shoulders and led him to the living room. “God, Paul, you’re really freezing! Let me take off those wet socks. Why aren’t you wearing any shoes?” 

____

He pushed Paul on the couch and kneeled down before him, taking off his socks and started rubbing the ice-cold feet. “Let’s get you warmed up a bit first, son, don’t want you to get ill, do we now?” Dusty entered with a mug of steaming hot and sweet tea. He sat down on the couch next to Paul and put the mug in Paul’s shivering hands. “Drink up son, it’ll warm you up.” 

____

Dusty exchanged a questioningly look with Steve, who was still rubbing Paul’s feet, and who shook his head slightly. “I’m going to fill a tub with warm water to put your feet in, Paul. I’ll be right back.” Steve stood up and his eyes told Dusty “Try to get him to talk!” And that’s exactly what Dusty did.

____

“Can you tell me what happened, Paul?” he softly asked the still trembling young man. Paul turned his big, sad eyes to him. “You once said I could always come to you when I needed to talk. I think I need to talk right now.” Dusty smiled at his old pupil affectionately. “And I will listen, son. But first finish your tea. Then you can tell me what’s wrong.”

____

***

____

He walked and walked. For how long? Minutes, hours, days? He had lost all sense of time. Nothing mattered anymore. He felt cold and empty inside. Like his heart had been ripped out. It hurt. It hurt so badly. He wanted something to ease the pain. He wanted, he _needed,_ some booze. That’s what he needed. But he had no money on him. Didn’t think to take his wallet when he had run off in search of Paul. Maybe he could go home to get his wallet? _Home?_ To their apartment? Without Paul there was no home. The apartment would be cold and empty, full of memories of happier times, full of memories of the man he had loved so much. He couldn’t bear to think of being there anymore.

____

He nuzzled Paul’s coat again. Inhaling the scent that still lingered there, _Paul’s scent._ He felt tears sting behind his closed eyelids. How long would Paul’s scent linger? That scent that always made him relax, that would always make him feel like he was home? 

____

Suddenly he felt something in the coat’s pocket. He reached for it, and found Paul’s wallet. He could go to the liquor store now. But it was Paul’s money. But Paul wouldn’t mind, would he? He could pay it back later. 

____

_Pay it back?_ Who was he kidding? He didn’t have to pay it back! Paul was gone, _dead!_ He had _left him!_ Like his uncle George, Julia, even Stu had stayed behind in Hamburg...... _Everybody always left him._ And Paul had promised him he would _never leave him!_ A fuckin’ liar, that’s what he was! Served him right if he took his money! And then his feet took him to the nearest liquor store.

____

***

____

“Paul? Here, put your feet in the tub. Bit silly to walk outside without shoes in this cold weather, isn’t it?” Steve put the tub in front of the couch and Paul put his feet in. That felt very nice, pleasantly warm. “Thanks Steve” he sighed, “that feels good.” He looked from Steve, squatted in front of him, to Dusty, sitting next to him. The hot sweet tea had warmed his body from the inside and now the hot water warmed his feet.

____

“I suppose you want an explanation?” he whispered. “That would be nice, Paul. We’re not used to being woken up at three in the morning by visitors. So first things first, where are your shoes?” Steve looked up at him with eyes that demanded an answer. “I think I left them at the docks. My coat as well” Paul answered softly. 

____

_“The docks?_ What on earth were you doing at the docks in the middle of the night? And by the way, where’s _John?”_ Dusty’s voice sounded worried. But Paul didn’t want him to worry about him. “I suppose John’s at home asleep. He went straight to bed after we returned from London. From our audition. Which I completely blew......”

____

Paul sighed deeply. “He was angry at me. Told me I was a lousy bass player and singer and that I ruined our chances of getting a recording contract. He’s right, you know, I really fucked up. He’s gonna kick me out of the band, out of his life......He doesn’t care about me anymore......It’s over between us.” 

____

“Aren’t you jumping to conclusions, Paul? Did John tell you it was over between you?” Steve asked. “I mean, just because you _didn’t pass the audition_ , that doesn’t have to mean he doesn’t _love_ you anymore? _Did_ he tell you so?” 

____

Paul thought back at the things John had said to him. He said such harsh things and had sounded so cold. But had he said he wanted to end their relationship? “Not in so many words, no. But he was so angry, and cold-hearted and drunk, and......I felt.......I thought......He’s _never_ been like that to me.....I don’t want to lose him.........And I didn’t know what to do.......so I went to the docks to.......” 

____

“To do _what,_ Paul?” Dusty whispered. “I didn’t want to ruin my coat. It’s a new one, you know, John gave it to me at Christmas. And the shoes were relatively new as well and I thought they might fit Mike.” Dusty rubbed his back. That felt good. Paul sighed contently. Yeah, that felt really good. 

____

“Why would your shoes and coat be ruined, Paul?” Dusty asked carefully. “The _water_ would ruin them. _If I jumped in._ But I didn’t. Jump in, that is. It would be selfish to do so, wouldn’t it? John has already lost so many people in his life.......But I didn’t know what to do.......I couldn’t just go back home, John’s so angry with me. And then I remembered what you said to me. That I could always come to you. So here I am. Are you guys angry with me?”

____

***

____

The bottle of Scotch numbed his pain. And so did the next bottle he bought and the next one.....until he ran out of money. He ate some food he found in a dustbin at the back of a pub. Days turned into nights, nights into days.....He had lost all track of time, slept during the days, wandered the streets at night, then slept days at a row, lying under a newspaper under a bridge.

____

Sometimes, when his feet had taken him to the docks, he considered jumping in the water, just to be _with Paul_ again and end the pain. But that would be the easy way out, and he didn’t _deserve_ an easy way out. After all, _he had killed_ Paul. Maybe not with his hands, but certainly with his harsh words. He had to suffer for what he had done, he _deserved_ to suffer. 

____

And so he didn’t throw himself in the water, but wandered the streets and slept under the bridge. Going home was not an option. Paul wouldn’t be there, he would _never_ be there again. Paul was gone, the only person in the world who had loved him unconditionally, the only person in the universe John had wanted to grow old with. And all because he had put all of the blame of their disastrous audition on Paul, which was completely ridiculous, since he himself was just as much to blame. But he couldn’t admit to that of course, so in his drunken mood he had attacked Paul. He had seen the hurt in Paul’s eyes, but hadn’t been able to stop himself. 

____

What was it that Steve had said to him again? “Paul is very vulnerable, he needs to be protected” and “Keep him under close watch. Look out for any sign of depression and never leave him alone when you even have the _slightest_ suspicion of things going downwards again.” He had failed miserably at that, hadn’t he? He hadn’t protected Paul like he was supposed to do, but had driven the boy to his death. How was he _ever_ going to be able to live without him? How would he be able to live with the guilt? 

____

And how could he ever face old Jim McCartney again? The poor man had already lost his wife, and now he had lost his beautiful, talented son. _Because of him._ And what about Mike? The kid had already lost his mother, and now he had lost his caring, protective brother. _Because of him._

____

And George, who had been Paul’s schoolmate for years before John even met Paul. He had lost his best friend. _Because of him._ And Steve and Dusty who had depended on him to look after Paul. They had lost their “surrogate-son” as they called Paul. _Because of him._ They would _all blame him_ for Paul’s death. And they would all be right about that. He _was_ to blame.

____

He didn’t deserve a warm bed, tasty food and nice company. Paul didn’t have any of that anymore. He was lying on the bottom of the Mersey, all alone and cold as ice. _His Paul._ John closed his eyes and Paul’s face appeared, those beautiful kaleidoscope eyes. But they weren’t sparkling and laughing the way John always loved so much. They were cold and accusing, saying “You did this to me.” John crawled up in a foetal position under the bridge, clutching Paul’s coat and shoes and let his tears run free. “I’m so sorry, Paul. _I’m so sorry.”_

____

***

____

_“Angry_ with you, Paul? Why would we be angry? I’m so glad you’ve managed to stop yourself from harming yourself and have chosen to come to us! My dear boy, you have _no idea_ how relieved we are to have you here, right Steve?” Dusty hugged Paul close to his side, as Steve massaged Paul’s feet in the warm water. “I’m so proud of you, Paul. Stopping yourself from committing such a desperate act takes _a lot_ of courage and strength. And we are here to listen to you, as we’ve promised you. Day or night, any time at all, we’ll be there for you.”

____

“I feel such a fool. Why can’t I just act like a normal person? I mean, surely it’s not normal to consider suicide every time something goes wrong in my life. Why can’t I deal with set-backs like everybody else? Sometimes it feels like......like.....I’m not really _sane,_ you know. Like I belong in the nut-house.” “You musn’t think like that, Paul! _You are not insane_. You’re just...... _vulnerable. Very sensitive._ But most certainly not insane! You’ll just have to find a way to better deal with set-backs. And it’s getting better all the time, love. The fact that you’ve managed to stop your suicide attempt and come to us instead, shows a big progression in the right direction. Don’t for a minute think you’re insane, love, because that’s not true at all!”

____

Paul had looked at Steve attentively and the man spoke to him with such a strong urge, that Paul was inclined to believe him. Maybe he was getting better. He did manage to stop himself from topping himself, after all.......

____

“Maybe you’re right, Steve, but that still doesn’t change the fact that John doesn’t want me anymore. And what am I going to do without him? _\- How am I supposed to live without him?_ And where am I going to stay? I can’t go home now, he’s so angry at me. But going back to my dad’s place.......he’s going to wonder why I can’t stay at my own apartment. After all, it’s my apartment and to him, John’s just my roommate. I mean, how am I going to explain to him that I don’t dare to go back there?”

____

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, Paul. You’ve stayed here _before,_ you can stay here _again._ No problem at all. You’ll always be welcome here. The guestroom is all yours” Dusty assured him. “And I will go by your apartment tomorrow to pick up some things for you and maybe talk to John. How’s about that then?” Steve added. Paul looked at the two men with an immense sense of relieve. He was so grateful to have them in his life.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Paul's still alive, thank God! But John doesn't know that yet. Let's just hope he won't do something stupid.......


	43. A FAMILIAR FACE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John seemed to have disappeared and Paul is getting worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Steve went over to Paul and John’s apartment, determined to give John a piece of his mind. He had impressed John to look out for _any signs_ of depression to make sure Paul didn’t end up in a downwards spiral that might lead to another suicide attempt. And what did that young man _do?_ He had _hurt_ Paul and let him leave their apartment in a state of deep confusion and anxiety! They could have lost Paul forever!

But John didn’t open the door. He knocked and knocked again, called out his name, but the door wasn’t opened. John didn’t appear to be home. And since he didn’t have a key (maybe he should have asked Paul for the key?) he returned home, without having talked to John and without the clothes and toiletries he was supposed to get. 

Dusty had called in sick at school, since he didn’t dare to leave Paul alone. He looked up from his coffee as Steve walked in. “John wasn’t home. Paul, do you have the key to your apartment, so I can get your things at least?” Paul, huddled up on the couch in Steve’s pyjamas and playing with little Eddie, thought for a moment and then shook his head. “They were in my coat pocket.......”

“Well, I suppose you can borrow some of my clothes, and we can buy a new toothbrush. I will try your apartment again at the end of the day.” He exchanged a look with Dusty, who nodded slightly. “I’ll get you some clothes then.” After Steve had gone upstairs, Dusty sat down on the couch next to Paul. “So what happened at the audition then?” Paul looked up to him as he kept stroking Eddie. “I was so bloody nervous that my voice was all wobbly and my bass playing wasn’t top notch either. I can do so much better! But the nerves got the better of me and I ruined the entire audition.”

“The others weren’t nervous then?” Paul nodded. “Well, yes, I think they were. John’s voice sounded rather flat and uninspired, while he usually has such a powerful voice, and he forgot his lyrics again several times. _Always_ has a problem remembering them. And George blew a few solos, so _he_ must have been nervous as well. And as for Pete......well, he was the same as always, I suppose, which isn’t very good......” 

“So you weren’t the _only one_ who blew the audition then?” Dusty watch the young man closely. “Eh, I guess not.......” Paul answered hesitantly. “So why did John put the blame on you then?” Dusty wanted to find out what had brought on John’s behaviour towards Paul. “I don’t know really......he probably was _disappointed_ in me.......” He looked at Dusty questioningly. “And in _himself,_ perhaps?” Dusty asked softly “And you also told me he was drunk......” Paul nodded “Yeah, he certainly had a few too many.” 

“Do you suppose that maybe that’s why he said the things he said? That he was _disappointed in himself and drunk as well_ , and needed to put the blame on _someone else? On you?_ Might it be possible that he didn’t really mean it?” He saw Paul looking at him with a glimpse of hope in his eyes. “You think so? You think I just overreacted? That he doesn’t think I’m rubbish? That he might still......love me?” Dusty smiled at his old pupil reassuringly, as Steve entered the room with some of his clothes for Paul to wear. “That’s what I think, Paul. I can’t believe John would suddenly stop loving you, son. Having seen the two of you together so many times, I can only say that the man is absolutely _crazy_ about you.”

***

Steve had gone over to Paul’s apartment at the end of the day, but did not find John at home. And neither the day after and the next day, and the next.......Paul started to worry. _Where could John be?_ Maybe he went over to his aunt? Maybe he was staying there, so he could avoid seeing Paul, because he wanted to end their relationship? _Stop it Paul!_ He gave himself a mental shake, remembering Dusty’s words from a few days before. He was overreacting again! But he still was worried about John not having been in their apartment for the last few days. Maybe he should give Mimi a call to find out if John was there?

He looked at the phone, wondering if he dared to dial the number. Come on McCartney, get a grip! It’s only Mimi. He chuckled. _Only Mimi!_ The woman was _really scary!_ It was very obvious where John got his biting remarks from. He walked over to the phone and dialled the number, like he had done so many times when he was still at the Inny, asking John to come over.

“Hello?” he heard Mimi’s voice through the receiver. “Eh, hello Mrs. Smith, this is Paul, Paul McCartney. How are you doing?” Paul asked politely. “Paul? Well, good afternoon. I’m doing fine, thank you. But I’m sure you’re not calling to ask about my well-being. You’ve probably got something to ask me. _On John’s behalf,_ I suppose, as always. Why can’t he call _himself_ if he needs something? I honestly don’t know why you let him always use you like that. So what is it he has you asking me this time?”

Paul felt his heart sank in his shoes. So John wasn’t at Mimi’s after all. _Then where the hell was he?_ There weren’t too many family members or friends Paul could think of where John could have gone to. “Paul? Are you still there?” He managed to focus his mind on Mimi’s voice again. “I......eh......I thought John was going over to see you today, and I......eh......I kind of forgotten my key and......eh.....I can’t get into our apartment, so......eh......so I thought of calling you.......but since he’s not there, I guess......eh......I guess I will just have to wait until he comes home.” Pfhew, that didn’t come out all that smoothly, but at least it was not a complete lie. He kind of hated lying, especially to Mimi, who often seemed to see right through him. _Just like John could._

“You should learn to speak in proper sentences, Paul. All these fits and starts make it very difficult to follow what you are saying. So you have forgotten you key? That’s a _rather foolish thing_ to do, isn’t it? You should _always_ check if you have taken everything you need before you leave the house. And since John’s not here, after all he _hardly_ ever comes here, maybe you could tell him to visit more often, it’s really shameful to admit to the neighbours that he hardly ever comes around, so since he’s not here, you will have to wait until he comes back. At least _that way_ you’ll learn not to forget your key again.”

“So is there something else you have to ask me? Because I have a lady from the church coming over to talk about the flower decorations in the church. I always make sure there are fresh flowers every week, they really light up a church. I personally think there should always be fresh flowers in an Anglican church, don’t you think so? Oh, I’ve almost forgotten, you probably don’t know that, you being a _Roman Catholic_ after all.” The last words were spoken as if being Roman Catholic was some terrible crime. Paul sighed deeply. Well, never mind. “No, I haven’t got anything else to say. I will sit and wait at our front door, waiting for John to come back, overseeing my sins. Goodbye Mrs. Smith.” Damned! _Where the hell was John?_

***

He was lonely. _So lonely._ How long since Paul had left him? _Days, weeks?_ It didn’t really matter. Time didn’t matter anymore. What did time matter if Paul wasn’t there to share it with him? He was _hungry_ as well, but chose to ignore his empty stomach. After all, how could he eat, if Paul wasn’t there to share the food with? 

He was also _very cold._ But since Paul wasn’t there to keep him warm, and never would be there again to keep him warm, he might as well endure the cold. And it was dark, _very, very dark._ There would never be light again. Not for him. The sun that had lightened up his world had gone under forever. Paul’s sun had died and left nothing but darkness. 

He shivered underneath his newspaper. It was impossible to sleep on the hard, cold pavement, while his whole body and mind were aching. But all he wanted to do was to sleep. _To sleep and never wake up again._ There was no use to be awake. _Being awake without Paul there_ to share every waking moment with him, just wasn’t possible. But _sleeping without Paul,_ without those long arms and legs entwined with his limbs, smelling his scent, hearing his breathing, feeling his heartbeat.....that wasn’t possible either. 

All of a sudden, he was jumped upon by a barking dog. Not a large one, but it startled John nonetheless. He turned around, trying to fence the dog away, trying to keep himself from being bitten, when he saw two men approaching him. Was he going to be _attacked_ as well? He tried to shield his face with his arms, when he heard someone call out “No, Eddie, stop it! Come here boy, leave that poor man alone! I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry. Come here Eddie.” He knew that voice......But it _couldn’t be......._ He lowered his arms, trying to see where that voice came from. In the pale moonlight he saw that familiar, beautiful, beloved face that went with that melodic voice. And then everything went black.

***

Paul was still living at Dusty and Steve’s, with him not having a key to his apartment. It had been two weeks since he ran out of the door, with the intention to end his life. Two weeks since John had said those horrible things to him. Two weeks since he had managed to keep himself from jumping into the water. _Two weeks since John went missing._

He had been to his dad’s for Sunday Roast, and his dad told him that Brian had called to ask about their whereabouts. The Beatles were supposed to resume their Cavern appearances, but John and Paul hadn’t shown up. And since they had no telephone in their apartment, Brian had called Paul’s father. His dad had send Mike over to their place, but he hadn’t found them home. 

So the next day Paul had called Brian from Dusty and Steve’s house. “You were supposed to be at the Cavern, how can you _have forgotten_ that, Paul? If you want to make a career for yourselves, you will have to be more responsible, you can’t just not show up without any explanation.” Brian had reprimanded him. Paul had told Brian how sorry he was for missing the gigs, but had to tell him he didn’t know when The Beatles could perform again. “John has kind of disappeared, Mr. Epstein. We had a bit of a barney and I haven’t seen him in a couple of days. So I don’t know how to contact him. And we can’t perform without him, so I’m really, _really sorry,_ but until he comes back, you will have to cancel our shows at The Cavern.”

Brian had been rather angry, but also realized the band wouldn’t be able to perform without John. “He’d better come back soon, and you two better patch things up, Paul. That is if you guys want me to arrange an audition for another record company. It may not come as a surprise to you, but Decca has turned The Beatles down. They’ve told me there’s no future for guitar bands. So if you want to prove them wrong, _you’d better clean up your act!”_

But John hadn’t come back home. Paul was growing more and more worried by the day, but didn’t know what to do or where to look for him. He had asked George and Pete to keep an eye out on him, asked around at the Cavern and the Art College, went to all the pubs they used to go to, but _nobody_ had seen him. 

What if John didn’t want to be found? Maybe he wasn’t even in Liverpool anymore. Perhaps he decided he didn’t want to be _in the band_ anymore, perhaps he didn’t want to be _with Paul_ anymore. All those thoughts kept spinning through Paul’s head and he got more and more anxious as time went by. Steve and Dusty tried their best to calm him down and reassure him that everything would turn out alright in the end.

“Do you care to come with me and walk Eddie?” Dusty had asked him one evening, almost three weeks after John had disappeared. “Our little Yorkie is _really_ fond of you, I think he would like it a lot if you came along. And so would I, by the way.” Eddie jumped up and down eagerly, running around Paul’s legs and looking up to him as if to convince Paul to come along. “Alright, alright, you little rascal!” Paul bent down to stroke the dog’s head. “I’ll come along, if that’s what you want.” He had put on his coat, well Steve’s coat actually, and together with Dusty and a very happy Eddie took to the dark streets of Liverpool.

The brisk wind blowing from the Irish Sea made Paul’s hair to be blown in all directions, and Eddie’s ears were blown flat to his head. It was rather cold, but at least it didn’t rain, and Steve’s coat kept him warm. He talked to Dusty amicably, feeling completely at ease with the older man. He was so lucky to have him as his friend and confidante. He and Steve made him feel at home (and Steve was a very good cook on top of that) and he was grateful for that. But still...... _.John......._

He watched as Eddie ran in front of them, jumping and barking happily, standing still every now and then and then turning around, looking at them, as to say “Come on guys, a bit faster, please!” and then ran off again. It made Paul smile, he really loved dogs, he hoped to have one of his own one of these days.  
Suddenly Eddie took a left turn and ran towards one of the sleeping tramps that were lying under the bridge. He barked loudly and jumped at the man’s back, looking back at Dusty and Paul, and then at the tramp again. “No, Eddie, stop it! Come here boy, leave that poor man alone! I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry. Come here Eddie” Paul called out to the Yorkie as he ran towards the man and the dog together with Dusty. 

The poor man on the ground turned around, covering his face with his arms as to protect himself, then lowered his arms so Paul could see his face. Longish auburn hair, a reddish beard, almond shaped eyes, a familiar face....... Clutching a navy blue coat...... His coat..... _”John!?”_ And then the man passed out.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they have found each other again. But will they get back together again? Read the next chapter to find out!


	44. REUNITED

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> So John has been found, and Paul and Dusty take him home. But even though they are reunited, things don't go very smoothly......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

When John opened his eyes again, he looked into the worried eyes of the man he couldn’t be seeing. _Couldn’t be seeing because he was dead._ Still, he seemed so real......He closed his eyes again, thinking he must be hallucinating. Didn’t he hear somewhere that if you didn’t eat for some time, you would lose touch with reality? That you would start to hallucinate? He opened his eyes again, hoping that the hallucination had vanished, but instead he didn’t only _see_ Paul’s face, he _smelled_ his presence, that addictive scent that was so purely Paul. And on top of that he heard the young man’s _voice._ “John? John what the hell are you doing here? John! Are you alright?” 

He closed his eyes once more. This was one hell of a hallucination! He didn’t only _see_ things that weren’t there, he also _smelled and heard_ them! And then _felt_ them. Paul’s hands cupping his cheeks while his voice, peppered with worry, called out his name again. “John! John! Open your eyes! _Please John!_ Are you alright?” 

Was it possible to actually _feel_ a hallucination? That wouldn’t be possible, would it? But the alternative would be that Paul was actually there, alive and well. That wasn’t possible either, was it? _Paul was dead._ After all he had found his coat and shoes abandoned at the docks, close to that all-consuming, dark, cold water. “John, please love, open your eyes!” _So worried._ He didn’t want Paul to worry about him. He wasn’t worth it. So he opened his eyes, because that’s what Paul had asked for. And he saw them again, those beautiful kaleidoscope eyes. Paul’s eyes. _His Paul._

He reached out his right hand, touching Paul’s cheek attentively. He felt _real. Warm._ He should be _cold,_ shouldn’t he? If you were dead, you were supposed to be _cold,_ right? “Paul? Is that really you? It can’t be you, you’re dead! _You are not real!_ I’m hallucinating! Why are you _haunting_ me?” John cried out those words in utter despair. But then Paul gathered him up in his arms. Those long, strong arms, wrapping them around his body, and John started sobbing uncontrollably.

***

Paul was shaken to the core, absolutely horrified, as he saw John’s thin, bearded face, those beautiful eyes full of.......of what? _Sadness, fear, disbelieve, pain......_ What on earth was he doing here, sleeping out in the cold, under a bridge? “John? John what the hell are you doing here? John! Are you alright?” But the man had closed his eyes again. Was he passing out again? Paul was really, really worried now. “John, please love, open your eyes!”

And then John said something that almost made Paul’s heart stop beating when the words sank in. _John thought he was dead!_ He took John in his arms and the man started sobbing in his chest, his whole body shaking like a leaf. “Johnny, Johnny! _I’m not dead!_ Why do you think I’m dead, love. I’m right here, love, calm down, calm down, _everything’s alright!”_ He hugged John close, kissing the dirty hair, rubbing comforting circles on his back. “Now what is this all about, love? I’m alive and well, nothing to worry about. Please stop crying, Johnny, I’m right here. Hey, come on now, love, you’re really scaring me.” But John kept on sobbing uncontrollably, clinging on to him like a drowning man to a lifebelt.

Dusty had picked up Eddie in the meantime, and squatted down next to John and Paul. Paul looked at him, confused and desperately. “What on earth is wrong with him Dusty? I can’t calm him down! Why does he keep saying I’m dead? What am I supposed to do?” Paul’s eyes pleaded with Dusty, asking for some guidance to stop John’s sobbing. Every sob John let out felt like a stab to Paul’s heart. John was obviously totally shattered and in so much distress it panicked Paul. He had never seen John like in such distress, not even when Julia had died.

Dusty started rubbing John’s arm. “Come on John, stop crying, son. Paul’s alright, no need to be so upset. And we’re _so happy_ we’ve found you! We’ve been wondering where you could have gone to, asked around, but nobody had seen you. You’ve really got us all worried, son. Now, calm down, get up and let’s go home together, alright? Let’s get you a hot shower and some food. I’m sure Steve can fix something for you. You’ll feel much better when you’ve showered and eaten, and then you can get some sleep. In a real bed. Sounds a lot better than sleeping on the pavement covered by a newspaper, doesn’t it? God, boy, you feel cold. Come on now, stop your crying and let’s go home.”

Dusty never stopped rubbing John’s arm as his eyes were fixed on a clearly distressed Paul, trying to calm _him_ down as well by keeping eye contact. “He’ll be alright Paul, don’t worry. Come on let’s get him on his feet.” Paul moved his hands to john’s face, pushing him off his chest gently. “Come on Johnny, Dusty and me are going to take you home now, okay?” John looked at him with tear strained cheeks and red eyes. _”Please don’t leave me......”_ John pleaded with a shaky voice. But before Paul could answer, Eddie pulled himself out of Dusty’s arm, jumped on John’s shoulder and started licking John’s face, causing John to scrunch up his face and calling out _“Ewh, Eddie, stop that! Yuk!”_

Eddie’s action and John’s reaction broke the tense mood, as Paul started giggling and Dusty couldn’t stop himself from joining in. John looked at them, with an offended look in his eyes. “Hey, stop laughing at me, you two! Just stop that doggie from licking me, it’s _gross!”_ But Eddie only started licking John’s face more eagerly, causing John to scrunch up his face even more, which caused Duty and Paul to burst out in laughter. “That’s it. Eddie, lick him clean. He needs a good washing up!” Dusty hiccupped as John tried to push Eddie away from his face. 

The tense mood now broken, Paul and Dusty managed to get John upon his feet, but the young man was very shaky, so they put John’s arms around their shoulders, each one standing on one of his sides, so they could support him. John seemed totally exhausted and appeared to be very weak, so it took quite a long time for them to get home. _“Steve!_ Steve, could you put the kettle on, please? John’s home and he really needs a cuppa!” They sat John down on the couch, but when Paul tried to walk to the hallway to hang up his coat, John grabbed his hand. _“Please don’t leave me Paul......”_

***

After his cup of tea, that he drank eagerly, Paul suggested John taking a bath, while Steve prepared something to eat. “You really need a bath Johnny. You kind of....... _reek”_ he said, as he winced his nose. He helped John up the stairs and into the bathroom, where John sank down on the edge of the bathtub. He looked so exhausted and forlorn, it nearly broke Paul’s heart. “Come on love, let’s get you out of these clothes.” 

But John didn’t move at all, just looking at Paul with such pain in his eyes that Paul felt tears well up in his own eyes. But he couldn’t start crying now, John was so distressed; he really needed to be strong for him at this moment. He started to unbutton John’s shirt, wincing at the sight of John’s chest; _he’d lost so much weight!_ And then he felt John’s hand touching his cheek. _“Are you real?_ Please tell me you’re real.....” 

Paul looked up, looking in John’s eyes and he managed a weak smile. “Yes, Johnny, I’m real. Everything’s going to be alright, love. Just let’s get you into the bath first, alright?” He proceeded to unbutton John’s shirt, but John grabbed his hands. “Will you stay with me while I’m in the bath? I’m.......I’m afraid you will...... _disappear......”_ Paul pressed a soft kiss on John’s lips “I’ll stay with you, don’t worry Johnny. Now stand up, will you? I can’t get your pants off if you’re sitting down.” With Paul’s support John stood up and Paul started to unzip John’s trousers, but he startled when John suddenly cried out _“Fuck!”_

 _“What?_ What’s wrong John?” Paul stood up, looking at what John was looking at, horror written all over his face. _The mirror_. “Fuck! Is that me?” John’s hand went up to his own face, touching the beard that was growing there, as he looked at his own reflection in the mirror. “Fuck, I’ve grown a _beard!”_ Paul chuckled. “Yes, that’s what happens if you don’t shave for three weeks, love.” 

John’s hands went to his messy, dirty hair. _“Fuck!_ Look at my _hair!_ I look like a Neanderthal!” Paul started giggling. He couldn’t help it. He started to giggle uncontrollably, looking at John’s shocked face. “Well, I don’t know John” he managed to say between the giggles “I’ve been told Neanderthals were _really ugly._ You’re _anything but ugly_ though. You look like a crossover between Jesus Christ and a caveman. _Extremely attractive_ , but you _reek like a swine,_ so get in the tub, man!”

***

In the days that followed John started to gain some weight again, devouring everything Steve put in front of him. They had decided to stay for a couple of more days with Dusty and Steve, mainly because John still seemed very unstable and broke down regularly. He still had trouble coming to terms with the fact that Paul was still alive, after thinking he had lost him forever for three weeks. 

At times he was very happy, constantly hugging Paul, kissing him, looking at him with a love-struck look in his eyes and holding his hand all of the time. Paul didn’t mind that at all. He had been so worried about John’s whereabouts and had missed him dearly. 

But then suddenly John’s mood would change completely. He would crawl up into a ball, sobbing and saying he was hallucinating, that Paul wasn’t real, he _couldn’t be real,_ because he was _dead._ And it was all _his fault._ Nothing Paul would say or do could calm him down, no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t know very well how to handle John’s mood changes, especially since he was still chasing his own demons all of the time, and had been very relieved when Dusty and Steve had suggested that they’d stay with them for a while. And the fact that Steve was an excellent cook didn’t hurt either.

But when Paul wanted to go to their apartment to pick up some clothes and toiletries (now in possession of his key again, that had indeed been in the pocket of his navy coat), John went into a state of pure hysteria. He didn’t want Paul to go away, afraid he would never see him again, afraid he would disappear forever. And since John was in no condition yet to go out, Steve ended up going to their apartment to pick up some things for the both of them.

John’s complete breakdown had shaken Paul to the core. Yes, he had seen John breaking down before, after Julia died. But they hadn’t been lovers then. It was a different situation now, wasn’t it? John was his _life-partner,_ he was supposed to be _strong_ when his lover needed him. But somehow John had always been the strong one in their relationship up until now, and Paul was struggling to help John, while trying to keep his own sorrows at bay. But he managed, much to his own surprise, to provide a strong shoulder for John to lean on, and slowly things started to get better, until they both felt confident enough to return to their own apartment.

***

It had been over a month since the Decca audition, and the band hadn’t played all that time. And since Brian, George and Pete were very crossed with them about that, it was time to resume their Cavern shows again. Paul had informed John that Decca had turned them down because “guitar bands are on their way out” causing John to double up with laughter, much to Paul’s surprise. 

“They obviously don’t know the first thing about what’s happening in the music scene. Don’t know shit about what teenagers want to hear. Well, _good riddance!_ I hate to think of what they would have wanted us to play, had we signed with them. We’re better off with a record company that actually knows a thing or two about music!” 

Paul couldn’t agree more. He was happy playing at the Cavern again, happy he had John back and had faith Brian would get them another audition. He would tell Brian to let them choose their own songs this time though. And so The Beatles played The Cavern again to an ever growing and more enthusiastic audience, while John and Paul spend most of their spare time writing songs, which seemed to come to them more easily all the time.

Brian managed to get them some gigs in places like Manchester and Southport and in April he managed to get them a 7-weeks stay in Hamburg, playing at the Star Club, the newest and hottest club on the Grosse Freiheit. But this time they didn’t go by ferry; Brian had booked them _plane tickets!_

John and Paul had never flown before, and they found the experience rather terrifying. On the plane, sitting next to each other, looking out of the window, John searched out Paul’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Man this is scary. Is it too late to get off and catch the ferry?” Paul chuckled nervously, “I don’t think we can get off anymore, Johnny, since we’re already high up in the air. We’ll fall to our death if we get off now. And since I’d rather be scared than dead, I think I’ll better stay on the plane. As I advice you should do as well. But you’re right you know, it’s bloody scary!” Paul squeezed John’s hand back. “I hope we’ll make it to Hamburg.......”

***

John had fallen asleep with his head on Paul’s shoulder. Paul’s nerves had calmed down and now he rather enjoyed the flight. It was much more comfortable then their trips to Hamburg with Neil’s van, less tiring and a lot faster. _Hamburg........_ Paul liked the idea of playing there again, the audiences there were always quite wild, which led to the band playing even wilder. But Hamburg also meant...... _Stu._ Paul felt the green monster entering his mind. _Jealousy._ He hated feeling jealous, but he couldn’t help it. 

He knew John still communicated with Stu, writing each other letters. He tried to hide it from Paul, realizing Paul wouldn’t like it, but Paul _knew._ Every letter from Germany felt like a stab to his heart. He knew he had nothing to fear. Stu was John’s _friend,_ not his _lover._ John had assured him that Paul was the only one for him, but still.......The time when John was at Art College and had seemingly forgotten all about Paul when he befriended Stu, was still very vivid in his mind. It had hurt _so much,_ making him feel _so lonely._ But John had every right to have other friends beside Paul, didn’t he? Paul should just man up and stop being so possessive and jealous. It was not a character trait he liked about himself.

The captain announced that they were about to land at the Hamburg Airport and they had to fasten their seatbelts. Paul never unbuckled in the first place and neither had John, who startled at the voice coming from the cockpit. “We’re almost there Johnny.” John looked at his watch. “We’re there already? That’s fast! No wonder people prefer to fly. It’s still very scary though.” Paul chuckled “You’ve slept during most of the flight, love, so it can’t have been _that_ scary.” But then the plane started to descend a bit faster than Paul expected, and his face turned a bit white, causing John to look at him with a wide grin. “Not scary Paul? You could have fooled me, son!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going well for the boys again. But will they continue to go well when they're in Hamburg?


	45. A TERRIBLE LOSS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> So it's Hamburg time again. But it's not at all what they expected it to be. There's a lot of stress that puts a real strain on their relationship. So when they arrive back home in Liverpool, they need to talk......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

As their plane touched down on German soil, they both released a breath of relieve. They had made it without crashing down! After leaving the plane they went to pick up their luggage, the scary flight completely forgotten and replaced by pride. They had made their first trip by plane! Not only had it been a million times more comfortable, but so much faster than by boat and van. If they were going to make it big, no, scratch that, when they were going to make it big, they would have to travel the whole world by plane, so they’d better get used to it in time. Couldn’t go to America by boat now, could they? That would take ages. 

Pete gestured in the direction where they had to pick up their luggage. George hadn’t flown with them today, saying he was sick. Yeah, right! John figured he was probably just too terrified to fly! Not as brave as him and Paul, the cowardly kid! He said he would catch the ferry and train the next day, but Brian told him it would take too long and that he would fly over with George tomorrow. So now George had to fly over with their queer manager! Served him right, the homophobic git! John chuckled inside, imagining George sitting next to Brian, desperately trying to make sure Brian didn’t touch him in any way. 

They were met at the arrival’s hall by Astrid. But to their surprise Stu wasn’t with her. “Stu didn’t bother to pick up his old band mates from the airport, then? Out of sight, out of heart then?” John quipped, but startled when Astrid started sobbing. “Hey, hey, I’m just joking, Astrid, no reason to cry.” Astrid looked up at him, her eyes red from what looked like many, many tears. “Oh, John. I don’t know.......I don’t know how to tell you.......Stu.......Stu is gone.....” 

John looked at Paul in surprise. “Gone? You mean _he left you?_ But you were engaged to be married! He was so looking forward to marrying you. He sounded so happy in all the letters he wrote me; can’t believe he would _break up_ with you.” Astrid started sobbing again. “We were both so looking forward to the wedding. And now it’s never going to happen. He’s gone, John, he’s dead. _He died yesterday.......”_

John felt all colour leaving his face. _“Dead?_ Don’t be ridiculous girl. He can’t be dead. How can you say something like that? It’s _not_ funny you know, not funny at all!” He felt Paul’s hand on his arm, squeezing him softly. “Johnny? I don’t think Astrid is joking......” Paul’s voice quivered as he softly spoke to him, but John hardly registered Paul’s words. “It is not funny, joking about someone’s _death,_ Astrid! I know you Germans may have different ideas about humour, but _this_ is not something you joke about!”

“Astrid? What happened?” Paul asked the distressed girl softly. “He collapsed at our studio yesterday......he’d been having those terrible headaches for some time.......The ambulance.......the ambulance came, but, but.......he died on the way to hospital........he never even made it to the hospital......” Astrid burst out in tears. “They said........they said it was a brain haemorrhage.......he never stood a chance.......” John moaned. “No, no, no, tell me it isn’t true! It _can’t_ be true! He’s only twenty-one, he can’t have died! He’s way too young to die! He’s my best friend, he’s not supposed to die, _tell me it’s a lie!”_ John started crying and embraced Astrid, both of them sobbing violently. “He can’t be dead, he can’t leave me, _he can’t be dead!”_

***

Paul looked at them both, Astrid and John, holding each other tightly, crying uncontrollably. He felt tears well up in his eyes, not knowing what to do. He was shocked, _of course he was;_ who wouldn’t be? Stu was way too young to die and seeing both John and Astrid so devastated, shook him to the core. 

But what could he say to Astrid? I’m sorry for your loss? _Of course_ he was sorry Stu died, and _of course_ he felt bad for her. Astrid had lost her fiancé, the man she loved! But she knew Paul and Stu had never been on good terms, so she might think him to be a hypocrite when he said he was sorry. And it would hurt is she would say so. Because he _was_ sorry! He really, _really_ felt for her! After all, he knew what it was like to lose someone you loved....... 

_And John._ Oh how he felt for John. John had lost his best friend..... _Stu was his best friend_.......not Paul......Stu.......It hurt to hear those words coming from John’s mouth _“Stu was my best friend”._ He didn’t want Stu to be John’s best friend. But he didn’t deserve to be dead either. Was he jealous of a dead man now? Was that really what it had come down to? Did his jealousy overtake his ability to give comfort to the man he loved?

He gave himself a fierce mental shake. _Stop feeling sorry for yourself, McCartney!_ John and Astrid are the ones who matter now, not you! He walked over to the pair and put his arms around their shoulders. _“I’m so sorry,_ Astrid, I’m so sorry. Maybe we should go to our hotel, where we all can be more comfortable and catch our breath? Johnny, are you alright?” John looked up at him with eyes that seemed to spit fire. _“Alright?_ You think I’m alright? _I’ve just lost my best friend!_ Of course I’m not fuckin’ alright, _you bastard!_ I know you didn’t care shit about Stu, but assuming I’d be alright, that’s just......just...... _You have no idea what real friendship is!_ That’s why you don’t have _any friends!”_

Paul took a step back, shocked at John’s harsh words. That surely wasn’t true, was it? He _definitely_ knew what friendship was. He did have friends! John and George and.......Neil......and.......Ivan (although he had moved to London now, studying history, so they didn’t see each other very often). And Pete perhaps? Did he consider Pete to be his friend? They played in the same band but hardly ever hung out socially. Not _a lot_ of friends, but still friends, _real friends._ John’s remark really hurt him. How could he say that? He gave himself another mental shake. John’s upset, he’s hurt, he doesn’t really mean it. Don’t dwell on it, McCartney, just put your own pain aside, you’ll have to be there for John now.

“Of course you’re _not alright,_ Johnny, I understand you’re upset, _of course I do!_ What I mean is: are you alright to go to our hotel? We can get something to drink and Astrid can fill us in on the details. Shit, John, I can’t believe Stu just died like that! Astrid? Will you come back with us, so we can talk about everything, love? We could drink a cup of tea, with lots of sugar. It always calms me down when I’m upset.” John looked at him, eyes still full of anger and pain. _“Tea? Really McCartney? Tea?_ Do you really think _tea_ will ease the pain? That a cup of tea will bring Stu back? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!” But Astrid looked at him through her tears, showing Paul a sad smile. “It’s okay John, calm down. I think I can use a cup of tea, Paul. And so can you John.”

***

Their stay in Hamburg felt so different from the last time, both in a good way and in a bad way. _In a good way_ because Brian had booked them hotel rooms. John and Paul shared one of course, and so did George and Pete. The beds were excellent (even though John and Paul only used one) and they had their own bathroom. The rooms came with breakfast as well. It was a luxury they never had before, and they loved it.

_In a bad way_ because of Stu’s death. Astrid came to their shows often, and seeing her sad eyes in the audience, made the band feel uncomfortable. John, of course had taken Stu’s death the hardest and as a result he regularly got himself blind drunk. His behaviour on stage was often outrageous, like swearing at the audience. Paul was worried about him, but no matter how hard he tried, he didn’t seem to be able to reach John. He wanted to be there for John, like he had been there for him after Julia’s death, but John just wouldn’t let him get close. Unless it was to have sex of course.

And that was another thing that worried Paul. Somehow the tenderness in their love making had disappeared. John was very fierce, almost animalistic, pushing Paul’s face against his groin to hold him there with force as Paul gave him a blow job, causing Paul to almost choke. And when they gave each other a hand job, John’s movements were often so out of control he’d hurt Paul. And his grip on Paul’s body was often so severe he left bruises on Paul’s skin. It reminded him of the way Mr. Maxwell acted with him. And made him fear sometimes that John would go further than he wanted to.......

So Paul counted the days before they would return to Liverpool, thinking it would be better for John not to be in Hamburg anymore, not to be around the grieving Astrid, not to be around the places Stuart had spend his last days and where he had died.

***

John had been totally devastated by Stu’s dead. He struggled to come to terms with it, but the pain was so deep. He had lost his _best friend,_ they had been so close, even while in different countries, always writing to each other. And he had been the only one, apart from Dusty and Steve of course, who knew about his relationship with Paul. He had often written Stu about his feelings for Paul, and it had felt good being able to talk about it.

_Paul.........._ That beautiful boy. Of course _Paul_ was his best friend, he knew that very well, but because he was also his _lover,_ it was a different kind of friendship than the one he had with Stu. He _knew_ Paul was trying to give him comfort, but since Paul and Stu hadn’t been good friends, John felt Paul’s compassion for him couldn’t possibly be real. So he pushed Paul away, even though he hated to see the hurt in Paul’s eyes when he did so. He wanted to be comforted by Paul, the way Paul had done after Julia had died, the way he had done that time when he thought Paul had killed himself, after that horrible Decca audition. So _why_ couldn’t he let Paul comfort him now?

Maybe it was because he had told Paul that Stu was his best friend. He had snapped at him and had said some really harsh words. He had seen the shocked look in Paul’s eyes. He knew he had hurt Paul, he shouldn’t have said the things he had, he felt guilty about that. He didn’t like to feel guilty, and the more Paul tried to reach out to him, tried to _comfort_ him, the bigger the feeling of guilt grew. Maybe he should apologize for his words. But apologizing was such a hard thing to do. 

So he bottled up his guilt towards Paul, mixed it with his grief about the loss of Stu, added a dose of the sadness in Astrid’s eyes, and a dash of the memories of Stu, lurking around each corner in Hamburg, and created a cocktail that was toxic. Not only for himself, but for everyone around him, especially for the one he loved most in this world. Paul. _His Paul._ It was time for them to go back home. Back to Liverpool.

***

They arrived home on June the second, driven home from the airport in a taxi arranged by Brian. The flight had gone well, with both of them not being so scared anymore. But they had hardly spoken a word on the flight back, both sunken in thoughts, _Paul_ still shaken about John’s harsh words about him not knowing what friendship was, _John_ still feeling guilty about saying those words. It was like there was a kind of abyss between them, and neither of them knew how to cross it to reach the other one. But both of them knowing that if they didn’t try _to build a bridge_ across that abyss, it could mean the end of their life together. And neither of them wanted that to happen.

So when they had entered their apartment and put down their luggage, Paul decided to bring up the topic. “John, I think we need to talk.........” John looked up to him (when did he grew taller than John, Paul suddenly wondered) and sighed. “Yeah, I think we do.” John sat down on the couch. “I think we need something to drink.” Paul went over to their kitchen to put the kettle on, but John stopped him.“I think we might need something _stronger_ than tea, Macca, at least I do.” 

“There might be some beer in the fridge. Should I open one for you?” John nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be fine.” Paul plopped down on the couch next to John, handing him his beer and as he looked down at his own bottle, he started to speak softly. “John, I’m _really_ sorry about Stu, you know. Just because we weren’t close friends, doesn’t mean I’m not sorry about his death. He didn’t deserve to die so young. Astrid didn’t deserve to lose the man she loves. You didn’t deserve to lose your best friend....... _Please_ believe me on that, will you?"

"But you’ve said something that really hurt me. You said I don’t know what friendship is. But I think I _do_ know, John. And it really hurts me that you think I’m not your friend. Because I think I am, I _know_ I am. I hate the way we are drifting apart, because I love you. But sometimes.......sometimes you make me feel I’m nothing more than a body to have sex with.......”

John tenderly put his hand on Paul’s thigh, squeezing it softly. ”I’m sorry Paul, I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t _really mean_ it. I was just so shocked about Stu’s death, I didn’t know how to deal with it. And you know what I’m like when I don’t know how to deal with things. I lash out. Especially at the ones I love most. _Meaning you._ I love you more than anyone........I didn’t mean to _hurt_ you. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.......”

“You said Stu was your best friend........” Paul’s voice sounded wobbly, and John’s hand caressed his hair. “He _was_ my best friend, baby, just like _George_ is your best friend. What _we two_ have together is friendship on _a whole other level._ You are my lover, my partner, my confidante _and_ my best friend. You are _my everything........._ I was just so hurt........so I lashed out at you. I know it’s ridiculous taking it out on the one you love, but sometimes I can’t seem to be able to help myself. I’m really fucked up sometimes. Have I.......” John’s voice started to tremble. “Have I lost you now? Will you _leave_ me now?"

And suddenly tears were streaming down John’s cheeks. Of course Paul would leave him! _Everybody_ left him, because he was _a bastard, an unlovable jerk._ He’d been horrible to Paul and now he would leave him. And he couldn’t even blame him. He wouldn’t want to stay with someone like himself either. Suddenly Paul’s arms were around him, hugging him close. “Of course you haven’t _lost me,_ you silly git! _I love you!_ I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again: I will _never_ leave you. _As long as you want me, I’ll be there._ We can find our way somehow.........”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they have lost Stu and drifted apart for a short while. But something good will appear on the horizon in the next chapter........


	46. GEORGE MARTIN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> The band meets someone who's going to be very important for them in the years to come. But there's something about their drummer that's bothering John and Paul......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Brian had managed to get them another audition in London, this time for EMI. It was scheduled a few days upon their return from Hamburg. Since they didn’t want to mess things up like they did at the Decca audition a few months earlier, they decided to make sure they came prepared. They did some extensive rehearsing for two days, coming up with a set list, in consultation with Brian, that would show what they were capable of, including some Lennon/McCartney originals.

So the day before their audition they travelled to London, taking no chances, making sure they would not be delayed by traffic jams or bad weather, like last time. They couldn’t risk their chances at a recording contract this time around! Brian had booked them into a simple but nice hotel, not too far from St John’s Wood, where the EMI studios were situated.

Of course John and Paul shared a room again. Having patched things up, they were completely and utterly together again, more in love than ever before. As they lay in each other’s arms in one of the beds, tired after the long travel down from Liverpool, but not too tired to have engaged in some passionate love-making, they shared their worries about the next day’s audition. 

“I hope Pete will keep time tomorrow. This audition is _so important,_ we have to play to the very best of our abilities, I really hope he won’t screw up. I hope _I_ won’t screw up either.” There was a worry wrinkle between Paul’s perfect eyebrows as he softly muttered those words to John. “You won’t screw up, baby, you never do.” John’s thumb traced Paul’s eyebrows. “I did _last time,_ John, you _know I did,_ I was so bloody nervous.” John kissed his forehead. “We _all_ screwed up, Paulie. But we’re better prepared this time, we’ve rehearsed for two whole days. And we now know what to expect a bit as well. I’m worried about my amplifier though, It kind of rattles lately.” Paul sighed. “Mine has this horrible hum. I wish I could afford a better one.” John placed a soft kiss on Paul’s luscious lips. “When we get a record deal, we’ll be able to buy better equipment, baby. I just hope we’ll pass the audition. But I think we will this time, love, because as always, we can find our way somehow.”

***

But when the next day they set foot in the EMI studios at Abbey Road, they were still very nervous. Indeed Paul’s amplifier hummed and made a lot of noise, and they had to put string around John’s to stop it from rattling. And something was wrong with Pete’s cymbals. Only George’s equipment seemed to be okay. They _did_ try to throw everything into their performance and tried to suppress their nerves. But as the sound engineer Norman Smith suddenly ordered one of the operators out of the studio during their performance of “Love me do”, nerves _really_ started to kick in.

The operator came back with a tall, elegant man, somewhere in his thirties. John and Paul exchanged an anxious look. _Who could that be?_ The man stayed for the rest of their audition. And then stated they were going to tape a couple of their songs. The man chose “Besame Mucho” and, surprisingly, three of their own songs “Love me do”, “P.S. I love you” and “Ask me why.” Afterwards he invited the band up to the control room to listen to the recorded songs.

“Let me introduce myself first” the man said in a smooth, low voice. “My name is George Martin, and I work at EMI as a recording producer. I was asked to give your band a listen. I don’t get a lot of performers who write their own songs, so that triggered my interest. So let’s listen back to what we have recorded.” The four young men sat down in the control room, feeling totally out of place there.

“Your equipment is really, _really_ in a very bad shape, young men. If you want to become recording artists, you will _have_ to get better amplifiers. The ones you have now, just _won’t do_ if we start making a record, there’s _way too much_ hum and noise and rattling. We simply _cannot_ record you that way, do you understand?” 

The four of them had been silently listening to Mr. Martin, looking down at their hands or shoes, like schoolboys being reprimanded by the school’s headmaster. The only thing missing was the rod. They didn’t respond to anything the man said, being too overwhelmed by everything around them, shuffling their feet, afraid they might say something wrong. “You’re all awfully quiet, young men. Is there anything you don’t like?” John, Paul and George exchanged looks with each other for a while, as if they were silently communicating. And then George said _“Yeah, I don’t like your tie.”_

***

Lying in their hotel bed that night, John and Paul looked back on their audition. “I thought I was going to _wet my pants_ when George said he didn’t like Mr. Martin’s tie” Paul chuckled. “For a moment I thought “That’s it then” but then Mr. Martin started laughing......” he started giggling, thinking back on what had occurred next. “And then we all started laughing.......And then none of us seemed to be able to stop. God I don’t know how long it has been since I’ve laughed so much.” John chuckled along, “Yeah, suddenly all the tension was gone. And when he told us he had recorded The Goons! Man, I couldn’t believe my ears! _The Goons! Peter Sellers!_ That’s totally my kind of humour. I _can’t believe_ the same man who recorded The Goons is going to record _us_ as well!” 

Paul smiled in the darkness of their room. John sounded so happy! He loved it when John was happy. It was something he always tried to work at: _making John happy._ John _deserved_ to be happy. After all, his life had been so difficult, with his father leaving him, his uncle dying, Julia dying, Stu dying. And of course the time he had broken down when he thought Paul had died...... Paul had made a promise to himself to always try and make John happy. And come to think of it, he knew _exactly_ what to do to make that beautiful man beside him happy. 

“Maybe we should celebrate a bit, Johnny? After all, we don’t get a recording contract every day.” His hand slit down John’s body, grabbing the already hardening cock of his lover, while placing kisses on the man’s face. “A _certain body part_ is telling me you’re ready to celebrate as well, Johnny boy.” John moaned as he felt Paul’s thumb sliding over the tip of his cock, smearing out the pre-cum. Paul started placing his kisses lower and lower, to John’s neck, his collarbones, his chest, his nipples, his belly, his tongue playing with John’s bellybutton for a while. John started wriggling and giggling. ‘That _tickles,_ baby, but oh.........don’t stop, it’s delicious.” Paul’s tongue wandered lower, while his very capable left hand never stopped his administration of John’s cock, which was rock hard already. Paul always loved to feel the man’s cock grow in his hand.

And then his lips found John’s member and after pressing a couple of passionate kisses on it, he took John in his mouth, causing John to groan deeply. “Oh baby, yes, oh fuck, suck me baby, so good, so good......” Paul had become quite good at giving blowjobs and by now knew exactly what John liked and what gave him the most pleasure. And strangely enough, he found pleasure in it himself as well.

Once upon a time he thought having another man’s cock in his mouth was absolutely disgusting, but now he _loved_ it! He loved the sounds that came from John’s mouth, caused by _his_ movements, _loved_ the feeling of the hard, yet soft flesh on his tongue, the musky, arousing scent, the tickling of John’s pubic hair in his nose. He _loved_ being able to give John this pleasure. He was proud that _he_ was the one who could make John come like this. And as John’s body stiffened and he felt the man’s cum in his mouth, he knew that even though the taste of sperm was horrible, at the same time it was the best thing he ever tasted. Because it was John’s. The sperm of _his Johnny._ The man he loved more than anyone in the world. And as John caressed his hair and whispered “That was amazing, baby, truly amazing. God I love you so much,” Paul was a happy man.

***

They resumed their lunchtime and evening shows at The Cavern. After being away to Hamburg for seven weeks, their fans had decided their first night back at The Cavern would be a “Welcome back home Beatles” show. There were _900 fans_ at the damp cellar; never before had it been _so crowded!_ Brian also booked them some shows in other venues around Liverpool, but their shows at The Cavern still took up most of their time. But more and more they got bookings for clubs further away from their home town, their fame spreading across the North of England, 

Something was bothering John and Paul though, and they talked about it, lying in their tiny bed together after returning from a gig in Birkenhead. It had been a late night, but they had slept a bit on the way back in the van as Neil drove them back home. And now they were cuddled up together, happy in each other’s arms, softly stroking the other’s naked body, enjoying just touching each other. 

“What are we going to do about Pete? Mr. Martin made it quite clear to Brian that he doesn’t think he’s good enough for recording in the studio.” John started the topic that had been hanging above their heads for some time now. “Well, he _isn’t_ exactly the best drummer around, is he?” Paul answered. “But I don’t fancy using a _session drummer for recording_ and still have Pete as our drummer when we’re _performing._ We’re supposed to be _a band,_ and we should do _everything together_ as a solid unit, both _recording and performing._ ” John hummed in agreement. “Maybe we should look for a new drummer that can do _both?”_ Paul bit is bottom lip. “You mean fire Pete altogether? Seems a bit harsh when we’ve just scored a recording contract, doesn’t it? On the other hand.......he simply _isn’t_ a very good drummer.”

John grinned. “You’re a _far better drummer_ than he is, love. You should have taken over on drums _ages ago.”_ Paul cried out _“No way, John!_ I’m not a drummer, Johnny! I like playing drums every now and then, when needed, but no way I could be a permanent drummer. I wouldn’t _want_ to be a drummer! And what’s more, I already had to take over the bass. Wouldn’t be able to do _both_ at the same time!”

“I’m confident you _would_ be able to do both, Macca. You’re so fuckin’ musical! But you’re right. If you would sit at the drums behind us, I wouldn’t be able to see you on stage, sharing a mic with you, to look into your eyes..........No, the bass _definitely_ is a better choice for you. But who can we ask to take Pete’s place? And what’s more, who’s going _to sack_ Pete? I’m not the one that’s going to tell him.”

“Mr. Epstein should do that, shouldn’t he, being our manager? Aren’t things like that a manager’s job? And as for a replacer, what about _Ringo Starr?_ He’s a _great_ drummer, I loved it when he sat in for Pete in Hamburg a couple of times.” John nodded. “Yeah, he would be great, Macca! But will he leave Rory Storm for us? He’s been with him _for years.”_ “But _we_ have a recording contract, John, Rory _doesn’t._ We have _that_ advantage; everybody wants to make a record, right? And what’s more, I like _his wit,_ so much more at par with us. George is really good friends with him as well. Maybe we should just ask to see what he thinks?”

***

So the next time they entered the EMI studios at Abbey Road in the beginning of September, for the recording of their first single, The Beatles walked in with a _new drummer,_ much to the surprise of George Martin, who had arranged for a session drummer. He took Brian, who had come with “his boys”, as he liked to refer to them, aside. “They could have kept their drummer for their live shows, Mr. Epstein, there was no need to fire him _completely.”_ “I think the boys wanted him out for some time. And your decision not to use him for the recordings, was just the thing they needed to make that decision. And believe me, once _John and Paul_ got their minds set on something, that something _is going to happen,_ no matter what.” 

George Martin was soon to find out the truth in Brian’s words, when John and Paul not only _insisted_ Ringo got a shot at playing drums on a take of “Love me do”, after the hired session drummer did, but also _insisted_ recording the song as their first single, saying the song George Martin had chosen for them “How do you do it?” was not their style at all and that they wanted to record one of their own compositions. And when the producer told them to do the song anyway, they gave such an uninspired delivery of it, he had _no other possibility_ then let them do their own “Love me do.”

John and Paul _did_ get things their way, just as Brian had told him they would. Ringo was a much better drummer then their previous one, so he was okay with the band using him in the studio. He didn’t really have a choice anyway. Paul, the younger of the two front men, told him they wanted the same drummer for their records as for their performances. The young man was _very polite_ but something told him there was _no messing_ with this boy. And he had to admit their own song sounded very fresh.

“They’re a very _forceful duo,_ those two young men” George Martin told Brian, when the band had left for their hotel after finishing their recording session. “It’s quite something for a band in their humble position to make such demands. And it’s even _more_ remarkable that they actually managed to convince me going along with them. There’s such _chemistry and connection_ between them, it’s hard to say “no” to such a united front. Somehow I feel those young men are in for some _really great things.”_ Brian couldn’t do anything else but smile.

***

Lying in their bed in their hotel room in Chelsea, John and Paul looked back at their recording session. “I rather like Mr. Martin” Paul said. “He could have said he’d stick to his guns about Ringo and “Love me do” because he’s way above us, but he actually _listened_ to us and gave us a chance. I really see ourselves working well with him.” John ran his hands through Paul’s hair, the boy nestled firmly in his arms, his head resting on John’s chest. “I know. I like him too. I like his kind of wit as well. And you looked _so hot_ when you told him we wanted Ringo to drum. I kind of like it when you act all _firm and bossy_ like that. Really turns me on. Had trouble keeping my hands of you!”

Paul chuckled. “I’m not sure if that would have been a good idea. He might have ordered us to record that bloody song anyway. But........there’s no need to keep your hands to yourself now, Johnny boy. As a matter of fact, I _order_ you to get those beautiful hands of yours all over my body, but preferably on a _certain body part_ that really needs your attention!” They didn’t get to sleep until two hours later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they finally scored a recording contact! And a new drummer. Things are looking up for the boys professionally. But what will happen in their private life?


	47. THE TOPPERMOST OF THE POPPERMOST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> The Beatles are going to the top and spend time in Hamburg. But things get out of hand after too much champagne.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“Love me do” made it to the charts! It was played on the radio! When they heard their voices coming out of the radio for the first time, John and Paul had looked at each other with big grins on their faces. This is what they wanted, what they had been striving for, for so long. Paul’s dad and Mike had been so proud, Jim telling everybody that would listen that his son was on the radio and had a hit record. Mimi however was embarrassed about it. Her nephew on the radio, playing that horrible music he made with that group of his. Yes, he earned money with that music now, but it wasn’t really a decent job, was it?

Steve and Dusty had invited John and Paul over for one of Steve’s delicious Italian meals on one of their rare nights off, to celebrate the fact that “Love me do” had topped at number 17 in the charts. They were so glad that things were finally happing for the boys they considered their protégées, and enjoyed their night with the two handsome, happy young men. And John and Paul always loved being around the two older men, because in their house they could be themselves. No need to act that they were just friends. They could kiss and hold hands when they were around them, without being afraid or ashamed.

***

Brian managed to get them loads of bookings, not only at the Cavern, but all around England, to ever growing crowds. The first weeks of November Brian had booked them for a two week stay at the Star Club in Hamburg. He had booked them a very nice hotel in Hamburg as well, better than last time. John had ambivalent feelings about their stay in the German city. It was full of memories of Stu and his untimely death, and seeing Astrid again, still sad and lonely, hurt. He still missed Stu sometimes, but he wasn’t going to tell Paul that. He didn’t want to open up that can of worms again. But he liked playing for the German audience and seeing Jürgen and Klaus again.

Their lives now existed of playing shows everywhere, and they loved it! And at the end of the month, they found themselves back at the EMI studios in London, recording their next single. They had chosen a song that had quite a bit of sexual innuendo, singing it to each other, but nobody seemed to really notice what “Please please me” was about. When Mr. Martin had addressed them after their recording session with the words “Congratulations gentlemen, you’ve just made your first number one” the four of them had looked at each other with excitement. _Could it really be true?_

That night they were in the bed of their London Hotel room, exhausted by their passionate love making. They had given each other blow jobs, something they both really liked doing as well as receiving. “Do you think Mr. Martin is right, baby? Could “Please please me” go to number one?” John asked his partner as he lay cuddled up close to Paul, his head in the crook of Paul’s neck, his leg across Paul’s legs, while he was softly caressing Paul’s taut belly and playing with the hairs of that delicious line that went down from Paul’s chest all the way to his groin. John loved that line of dark curly hair. And the abundance of dark hair on his arms and legs. And the hair on his chest, not too much, not too little, just the right amount.It made his body so incredibly masculine. _Perfect._

“I’m not sure, Johnny. It sure feels like a good song, but you never know what the public will think of it. It would be marvellous, wouldn’t it, having a number one hit? So I hope Mr. Martin’s right. We will just have to wait and see, nothing we can do about it anymore. It’s recorded and will be released soon.” Paul ran his fingers through John’s hair, which felt so soft. He nuzzled his nose in it, inhaling the scent of the man that was caressing his belly so deliciously. “Mmmm, that’s nice John. You know, I don’t really care if our single reaches number one. As long as you keep doing _this,_ I’ll be perfectly satisfied.”

***

They were booked for another two weeks in Hamburg in December. Paul wasn’t very happy about it, since it meant he wouldn’t be home for Christmas. He _loved_ the Christmases with his extended family; his dad and Mike, all his uncles and aunts, loads of cousins. There would always be a baby on his knee, which he loved; he really liked children, especially babies. Once upon a time he had dreamt about becoming a father to a lot of kids, but being homosexual and choosing a life with John, had erased that possibility. _Well, you can’t have everything in life._ There would always be a lot of singing around the piano at these family get-togethers. 

He had taken John with him to the Christmas party last year, but he had been a bit overwhelmed with the amount of people and the noise they made. He didn’t really get what the fun was in singing old, boring songs with a bunch of old, slightly drunk people. Paul didn’t consider the songs boring at all, and his uncles and aunts were all really lovely, goodhearted people. But John’s didn’t have such a close-knit family and was not used to it. It had just felt very strange to him. John and Paul had agreed to disagree about Family Christmas parties.

But now he had to spend Christmas in Germany, such a long way from home. They had the day off on Christmas Day, and he had called his dad and Mike to wish them a Merry Christmas, saying that he missed being there with them, leading them all in a merry sing-song, and told his dad to give everybody a big hug on his account. John, who had listened in on his conversation, had chuckled. “You really are one _sentimental git,_ aren’t you? Come over here, you, let _me_ give you a hug then. I know it hardly compensates the hugs from your aunties Milly and Gin, but I can sing “Bye bye blackbird” for you, if you like? Would that make up for missing out on the McCartney clan Christmas?”

Paul had punched John in the side. “Stop it, you fool! I know bloody well that you don’t like my family parties, but _I do._ And I’m not ashamed to admit it. Now what are we going to do today? I would like to do something nice to celebrate Christmas.” “We can go to the British Seaman’s Mission for lunch with Ringo and George. I’ve been told they have a special Christmas lunch today. It’s always good food and not expensive. We can ask one of the other bands to come with us. We can have a little British Christmas party there, sing some golden oldies together. May decline your homesickness a little bit.” Paul punched him again. “I’m not homesick, you git! Stop teasing me; it’s not a very nice thing to do on Christmas Day. Peace on earth, remember?”

So the Beatles ended up eating Christmas lunch at the Seaman’s Mission, together with the guys from the Dominoes. They had a lovely afternoon, and they indeed ended up singing some old British traditionals together and _even John_ had enjoyed that. The soup was tasty, they had a lovely steak, and there actually was Christmas Pudding for dessert! When they were about to leave, however, the minister that had let them in saying grace, causing John and George to chuckle, to which Paul had send them a warning glance, came up to them to say goodbye. “Considering your plates were all empty, I guess you must have liked our food then. I’m glad you did, not everybody likes to eat a horse steak.” Paul thought he was going to throw up.

***

In the following months they were back on a tight schedule of concerts all across England and Scotland. The travelling across the country was tiring, and whereas George and Ringo had some free time before and after a show, John and Paul were often locked up in their hotel room. Now normally they wouldn’t mind being locked up in a hotel room together. Lots of nice things to be done there, after all. But Brian had told them to write some new songs they could record for their first album, so they spend their time between shows _sitting_ on their beds with their guitars, Paul’s notebook in between them, trying to come up with the required amount of songs, instead of _lying_ in bed making love.

When the day of recording their album came however, John wasn’t feeling well. He had a sore throat and he was running a slight fever. Paul was worried about him, and asked Brian if the recording session could possibly be postponed, but no such luck. So Paul kept John provided with hot tea with lots of honey during the day, stuffed him with Zubes throat sweets, and often worriedly asked how he was doing. 

They recorded the entire album in a single day, but John was exhausted after they finished off with “Twist and Shout”. He could hardly speak anymore, his voice almost gone and the fever was really running high now. Paul ordered (yes he really _ordered!_ ) Brian to call them a cab to take them both back to their hotel straight away, and while they were waiting for the cab to arrive, he hissed to him “If John gets really ill, I’m holding _you_ responsible, Mr. Epstein. John was in _no condition_ to record today! The recording should have been _postponed!_ I will make _damned_ sure something like this will _never_ happen again!”

Paul ordered hot tea with honey again from room service, urging John to drink it. Next day, the fever was gone, but so was John’s voice. Paul tried to convince Brian to cancel their show that night, but Brian explained that cancelling would cost them a lot of money. Paul was not at all happy, but realized that the show had to go on. So he kept giving John tea with honey until the four of them took to the stage, with Paul and George doing all the singing. 

Paul’s behaviour greatly amused John. He was acting like some mother hen, fussing about him, worrying about him, taking care of him. _Such a sweet boy, his Paul!_ He liked it though,a lot, and pretended he felt ill for just a little longer than necessary, just to be pampered by him.

***

And indeed, their second single made it to number one, just as their producer had predicted, and people started to recognize them everywhere they went, especially the girls. They were signing autographs left and right and they felt like they were on top of the world. And when their album reached the number one spot within a couple of weeks after its release, they suddenly became national heroes. The band was thrilled; _this_ is what they had worked so hard for, all those years in Liverpool and Hamburg, to go to the “toppermost of the poppermost” as they called it. And now they were there at last! _They had a number one album!_

The night the news reached them, they celebrated with George Martin and Brian by going to a rather exclusive restaurant. They ate some things they’d never eaten before, never even _heard of_ before, and when Paul had ordered an “avocado pear” for dessert, thinking it would be fruit, John had almost choked from laughing, seeing Paul’s face after the dish had been put in front of him. Paul _did try_ the strange green thing in front of him, and was surprised he actually liked it. Not so much as a dessert though. 

Brian had ordered some champagne to celebrate, something the four of them were not used to drinking, and the bubbles and alcohol went straight to their heads. So when they returned to their hotel that night, they were all rather tipsy, to put it mildly. John and Paul entered their room laughing happily, and as soon as the door was closed, John grabbed Paul and pushed him against the wall, his mouth crashing into Paul’s. 

Paul kissed back feverishly, his arms around John’s neck. He felt John’s body pressing close to his own, grinding their groins together. It felt heavenly, and they both hardened quickly. John’s hands were fumbling with Paul’s trousers, trying to open the zipper in order to get Paul’s pants off, but the champagne seemed to have caused a dip in John’s zipper-opening-abilities. “Fuck, Paul! Your zipper is stuck!” Paul giggled. “It’s not stuck, Johnny, you have to pull it down to open it, not up.” Together they managed to undress each other, rather clumsily, and then stumbled towards the bed, holding on to each other to prevent the other one from falling over, but also because they couldn’t bear losing the physical contact they craved for.

John pushed Paul on his back, and then crawled on top of his lover, grinding his hard cock against Paul’s. His hands holding Paul’s head in a firm grip, his mouth attached to the luscious lips of his lover. God, he wanted Paul! He wanted him so badly! His hands were grabbing Paul’s body, squeezing his flesh roughly, undoubtedly leaving marks on Paul’s hips and thighs.

Paul was writhing beneath him. John was getting a bit too fierce for his liking. “John, you’re hurting me, love, slow down a bit alright?” But John didn’t seem to hear him, his actions growing more and more forceful. “John! Stop it, _you’re hurting me!”_ But then suddenly John pulled his legs apart violently, and Paul felt his fingers probing his anus. _No! He didn’t want that!_ John was trying to push a finger inside. “Stop, John! No! I don’t want that. _Stop please!"_ he pleaded. But John didn’t listen to his pleas.

Paul tried to push John off of him, but he was held down on the bed with such force that he wasn’t able to do so. And John kept trying to push his finger in. Deep fear overtook Paul’s entire being, John’s face morphing into Mr. Maxwell’s. Mr. Maxwell forcing himself upon him, raping him. Then the face morphed into John’s again. _John was going to rape him!_ He didn’t want to go through the horror of being raped again, didn’t want to experience the piercing again! _“No! Stop!”_ The fear that consumed his body suddenly gave him enough strength to push John off of him, causing him to fall backwards to the ground.

“What the fuck, Paul!” John cried out _“What the fuck is the matter with you!”_ Paul crawled back on the bed until his back was against the wall, pulling up his legs to his chest, circling his arms around them and burying his head between them. “What the fuck! I can’t believe you! It’s been two years, _two fuckin’ years!_ And you still won’t let me take you! Stop acting like a bleeding virgin! I’ve waited long enough! I just want to fuck you, you know, that’s what people do when they love each other! And you just push me away? _I don’t think you love me at all!_ I think I’d better find someone who isn’t a bloody ice-maiden!” John grabbed his bathrobe and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

***

Paul sat on the bed, curled up into a ball, shivering. He heard John slam the door as he left their room, and his heart seemed to freeze. He was so upset! John had tried _to force_ himself upon him, even though he had told him to stop _over and over again._ And now John thought he didn’t love him! He wanted someone who _would_ let him fuck him. Was that _all_ he wanted Paul for? The kind of sex Paul wasn’t prepared to give him? Couldn’t give him. _Not ever._

And now he would leave Paul. This is what he had feared for so long. He loved John, he really, _really_ did! He was just so scared........What was he going to do now? Maybe he should let John have his way with him? Maybe he should just man up and endure the pain? Or maybe he should just accept the inevitable and break up with John. After all, if the man didn’t love him enough to accept Paul’s “no”.....

Would it be worth staying with him if he wasn’t _loved_ the way he wanted to be loved, but merely _an object of sexual desire?_ If there wasn’t a _mutual respect_ for each other? That was not what he wanted from life, not what he wanted for himself. He wanted a relationship where he and John were _equals,_ and would listen to each other. So maybe it was time to let John go? But then again, he couldn’t bear to lose John! He loved him so much! Maybe if John knew why........Maybe he would understand.......Paul didn’t know what to do. He really didn’t. All he knew is that he felt cold, _so incredibly cold........._

***

John stood in the hallway, dressed in his bathrobe and paced up and down the corridor, muttering to himself angrily. "The fuckin’ bastard! Always denying me what I want! He should be over his fear by now! Jesus, the guy has so many hang-ups! I only want _to fuck him, not kill him!_ Why is he so afraid anyway? Haven’t I shown him enough that I love him? Why can’t he just ease up!” 

“Well if _he_ doesn’t want _me, I_ don’t want _him_ either! I’ve just had enough of this scared virgin act! And maybe he should find _another band_ to play in as well! We don’t need him! We can go to the toppermost of the poppermost without him!” John threw the door open, barged in, and shouted to the curled up naked figure on the bed: “And another thing......” _“I’ve been raped.......”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the big word's out. Will Paul finally tell his whole story to someone for the first time in his life?


	48. PAUL'S STORY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> So the word is out. Paul has finally said it. In this chapter he will tell his story to John. It might be a bit shocking, so beware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“I’ve been raped......”It was so softly said that John thought he must have heard it wrong. “What did you just say?” He stared at the naked, curled up figure sitting on the bed, the epitome of loneliness. “I’ve been sexually abused......raped.......” John felt his blood run cold as he stared at Paul’s head of dark, tousled hair. His mouth fell open and all of a sudden he seemed to have sobered up completely. “What? When? Where? Who? How?.........” His lips didn’t seem able to form a proper sentence. _Sexually abused?_ Paul had been...... _raped?_ Surely that wasn’t true, couldn’t be true? He would have noticed if something like that had happened? Wouldn’t he? _“Paul.......?”_

Somehow he wasn’t able to move, his feet seemed glued to the floor. He wanted to go over to the lonesome figure, gather him up in his arms, but something stopped him. The realisation that Paul was going to tell him something that was going to change their lives forever, paralyzed him. But at the same time he also realized he had to keep his distance for Paul to be able to tell him his secret. He had to give Paul his space to tell him what had happened to him. “It was years ago.........”

***

Paul knew it was time. Time to tell John his story. To explain his behaviour. To make John understand. To make it clear he loved him, wanted to do anything to make John happy, but that his past had a firm hold on his life. A suffocating hold that somehow wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard he tried. He had to tell John, or otherwise he would lose him forever......”It was years ago.......”

“When mum died, my dad just didn’t lose his wife, and Mike and I didn’t just lose our loving mum, we also lost her income. She had always earned more than my dad, and after her death we couldn’t make ends meet. Dad started working extra shifts at night every now and then, to earn some extra money, and one of our aunties would come over to look after us. Dad didn’t want us to be alone at night, you see, we were only 5 and 8, Mike and me. But the few extra shifts weren’t enough, we were so short of money that we had to buy food on the credit and were behind with the rent. So dad had to work more often.”

“But my aunties couldn’t always come over to babysit us, they had families with small children themselves after all. So when none of them was able to look after us when he had to work, he had to tell his boss he couldn’t make it, since he absolutely refused to leave Mike and me alone at night. And he couldn’t afford to pay for a babysitter. But we desperately needed the money. And one day he was talking to a man that lived further down the street, Mr. Maxwell. The man had asked dad how he was faring after mum’s death, and dad told him about his problems. And then Mr. Maxwell told dad that he could babysit us. And that he would do it for free. He lived alone and had nothing to do at night, so looking after Mike and me would give him something to do. Dad was so grateful. So the next time he had to work an extra shift, Mr. Maxwell came to our house to look after us.”

***

Paul shivered. He felt so cold. But it was a good thing, feeling cold. It numbed his feelings, so it was easier to talk about the things that were about to happen in the story of his life. He continued in a flat, emotionless voice. “He seemed like a nice man, he was very kind to us and Mike took to him immediately. But after we had put Mike to bed, he came into my bedroom and sat on the bed next to me. He told me I was a very beautiful boy and if I did something for him, he would give me a lollipop. A lollipop! I was 8 years old and since there hardly was enough money to buy food, we didn’t get any sweets at all.”

“And then he told me to take of my clothes. I thought it was a strange thing to do, but I really wanted a lollipop. So I took of my clothes and Mr. Maxwell unbuckled his belt and pulled his trousers and underwear to his knees. I had never seen a grown man naked, not even my dad, and I was shocked to see such a large penis. I remember him saying something like “Do you like what you see, Paulie? One day yours will be as big as mine, but now it’s still sweet and tiny.” 

“And then he grabbed my penis and started playing with it. It embarrassed me, but I let him do it; I wanted that lollipop after all. And then I saw his penis grow huge and all hard and he took my hand and placed it on his member. He told me to stroke him. I was terrified, but he showed me what to do. After a while he started groaning and suddenly some white, sticky stuff came out off the tip. I was in total shock, I thought I had done something wrong! But he told me I was a good boy, pulled up his trousers and presented me with a lollipop. I remember it was a red one. He told me to eat it straight away, so dad wouldn’t find out I had sweets after dinner. And he told me that if I kept quiet about what we had done, he would bring me a lollipop again next time. It tasted like cherries, that lollipop.”

Paul could almost taste that lollipop on his tongue again. It had been such a treat! “So every time Mr. Maxwell came to look after us, he would fondle me and I had to stroke him until he came. And then he would give me a lollipop again. And every time he told me not to tell dad about it. I didn’t really mind touching him, he seemed to like what I was doing and I got sweets in return. But things changed after my 9th birthday.”

***

“He sat on the bed, his legs apart, and told me to kneel in between them. He then took a firm hold of my head and pushed it down to his groin. He told me to open my mouth and put my lips around his penis. I didn’t want that! I thought it was disgusting! His pubic hair was tickling my nose and it smelled all funny. I tried to get away from him, but suddenly he pulled my head back by my hair, very hard, and my mouth opened up. He just pushed his cock into my mouth. It was horrible! I felt him all the way back in my throat and it made me choke. He started to pump in and out of my mouth violently and I started to cry. That gave me a stuffy nose and suddenly I couldn’t breathe anymore. I thought I was suffocating, I thought I was going to die!”

Paul felt his body shudder as he thought back about what had happened. “And suddenly Mr. Maxwell groaned deeply and I felt him spilling that white, sticky stuff in my mouth. It tasted so horrible, it made me gag. I wanted to pull away, so I wouldn’t get any more of the stuff in my mouth, but he pushed my head fiercely into his groin, so I couldn’t get away. I had no alternative but to swallow it. I almost threw up. After he pulled himself out of my mouth, I fell backwards to the ground, gagging and crying. He started to walk out of my bedroom, pulling up his trousers and told me not to tell anybody what I had done, because taking another man’s cock in my mouth was a terrible crime and if anybody found out about it, I would be send to jail. He didn’t even give me a lollipop.”

***

“Dad had invited Mr. Maxwell for my 10th birthday party. I hated he had invited him, but I couldn’t tell him that without explaining why. At a certain moment, Mr. Maxwell whispered in my ear that the next time he came around to babysit us, he would give me a big surprise, since I was a big boy now. I remember his words made me shiver and I wondered what he meant. I found out when he had to look after us about a week later.”

“After putting Mike to bed, he came to my bedroom and told me to undress as usual. This time he told me to sit on my bed on my hands and knees. I had no idea what he was going to do. I heard him unbuckle his trousers and he moaned. I remember he said I had a delicious little hole, and I didn’t quite understand what he meant. Then he roughly grabbed my hips, and suddenly I felt something pressing against my anus. And next he started pushing something inside of me. I screamed and tried to get away, but he was so much stronger than me. He held on to my hip with one firm hand and placed his other one on my mouth to keep me from screaming. He kept pushing in and it hurt so badly, it burned and felt like I was split in two. I wanted to tell him to stop, I wanted to scream, but his hand on my mouth prevented me from doing so. I remember I started crying, the pain was so excruciating, I thought I was going to die. When he started pumping in and out of my body with force, I blacked out. But he hit my face to wake me up again, saying he wanted to see me struggling.” 

“By then I realized it was his cock inside of me, because he started to make the same moans and groans he made when he fucked my mouth. I kept struggling to get away, kept crying, and started to feel nauseous. And then I felt something hot and wet inside of me, and realized he came inside my arse. He pulled out of me and took his hand of my mouth. I remembered feeling hot fluid running down my inner thighs and then I vomited all over my bed. I remember he asked me if I had liked his big surprise, but I could only cry. He said he had most certainly liked it; that I was so fuckin’ tight and that it had been so hot watching his cock disappear in my arse. And once again he told me not to tell anybody about it, because everybody would call me queer and that they would send me to jail.”

“I was lying on my bed, crying, with my vomit all around me, a piercing pain in my arse and sickly feeling wet thighs. After a while I realized I had to get up and clean the mess, but I couldn’t move; it just hurt so much! I tried again a bit later, but only after a few attempts I managed to stand up. But then I could hardly walk. Every step I tried to take sent a piercing pain through my body. I managed to get the soiled sheet of my bed, and wanted to wipe his sperm away from my thighs with it, but was horrified to see that there was a lot of blood dripping down them as well. I couldn’t wipe that off with the sheet, the stains might not get out, so I stumbled into the bathroom, tried to wash my thighs and tried to wash off the vomit of my sheet, and left it to dry there. When I made it back to my bedroom, I felt so sick I thought I was going to throw up again. But I didn’t, and I managed to lie on my bed after putting on my boxers.”

“The next morning I wasn’t able to get up, my body hurt so much. So I told dad I was feeling really sick and that I had vomited the night before. He was really worried, said I didn’t look well, and he would call school to tell them I wouldn’t be coming. He wanted to stay home with me, but I told him to go to work, we needed the money after all, and that I would just go back to sleep. Some time after he had left, I tried to get up again, but God it hurt so much. And then I saw that my boxers were all bloodstained and that I was still bleeding. I was terrified. How would I be able to explain bloodstains in my underwear? Dad would find out what I had done and I would be send to jail! So I dragged myself into the bathroom and tried to wash away the stains. But they wouldn’t come out, no matter how hard I tried. So I decided to just throw my boxers away.”

“I went back to school the next day, even though I still felt very sore. And then it occurred to me that dad would notice I was short of one boxer. How would I explain that? So I decided to take my pocket money, went to the store where we always bought our underwear, and bought a new boxer. I hadn’t realized they were that expensive though, it took almost all my pocket money to buy one.”

“Once a month Mike and I were allowed to go to the candy store to buy some candy with our pocket money. But I wasn’t able to buy anything, since I had spent it all on new boxers. I told dad I didn’t want to buy candy because I was saving up to buy a book. But I really wanted some candy. For the next few years, I never managed to buy candy, nor save for a book. I had to save all my pocket money so I could buy new boxers.......”

“And for the next few years I dreaded dad working overtime, because I knew Mr. Maxwell would come and hurt me again. I tried to convince dad to let us stay home alone, but he wouldn’t hear of it, saying that a good father wouldn’t leave his young sons alone at night. He said he was going to make sure that Mr. Maxwell would take care of us until I turned sixteen. I would be old enough to stay home alone and look after Mike then."

"Every time after Mr. Maxwell had raped me, I stayed home from school for a day, because I wasn’t able to walk. I went back to school the day after, even though I was still in much pain, but I was afraid dad would call the doctor if I stayed at home sick for more than one day. My life had become a horror movie, and I couldn’t find any joy in living anymore.”

“I thought about running away a few times, but realized that Mr. Maxwell would then turn to Mike for his sexual satisfaction and I couldn’t let him do to my little brother what he was doing to me. By then I understood that what that man was doing to me, was no reason for _me_ to be send to jail, and I started to consider telling dad, or maybe Mr. Durband at school, what was being done to me. But Mr. Maxwell told me that nobody would believe a little slut like me, and that if he wasn’t allowed to babysit us anymore, dad wouldn’t be able to work extra shifts because he couldn’t afford to pay a babysitter. And that would result in us getting into so much financial trouble that we would probably be thrown out of our house and would have to live out on the streets. And of course I was stupid enough to believe him. So I just struggled on”

“My life was so dark and gloom. And then, one day, you walked into my life......”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paul's story will continue in the next chapter. How will John react to it?


	49. JOHN ENTERS PAUL'S STORY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Paul's horrible life story contimues. And finally lots of things become clear to John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John had been standing frozen on his spot, unable to move. Listening to Paul’s seemingly unemotional voice telling the horror story of his life, staring at the young man’s naked, curled up figure and dark head of hair, he just didn’t know what to do. At a certain moment he had closed his eyes, not being able to look at the desolate looking boy anymore. And then the tears had started to fall. First a solitary tear was running down from his eye, but soon his face was wet with tears, that were streaming down his cheeks before falling on the carpet beneath his feet. 

How could somebody hurt a little boy like that? How could that bastard have raped his Paul over and over again, without anybody ever noticing what was going on? How did Paul even manage to survive these horrors and carry on with such a heavy load on his young shoulders? “And then one day, you walked into my life.” Those words alerted John. How did he fit into Paul’s story?

***

“Looking back now, I think it was love at first sight, but I didn’t realize it then. After all, you’re not supposed to feel like that for another bloke. It never occurred to me I could fall for another bloke. I just liked being around you. I liked the attention you gave me, liked talking to you, laughing with you. Suddenly my life wasn’t so gloomy anymore. You brought light into my dark life.”

“But Mr. Maxwell still abused me, and I still had to stay at home afterwards. And when you came to my house when I didn’t show up at school, I was so afraid you’d find out. I would have died of shame if you’d found out.”

Suddenly John remembered that day he’d showed up at Forthlin Road, how he had gone to Paul’s bedroom to collect a blanket to warm up the shivering boy on the couch downstairs. How he had spotted bloodstains on the sheets, wondering what had happened. How he decided to ask Paul about it when the boy was feeling better. And how he never came around doing so.........If only he had!

***

“And then you asked me to join your band! And we started spending all our free time making music, writing songs, playing gigs. I was so happy! And when I turned sixteen, I was finally free of Mr. Maxwell and you gave me that lovely notebook. Things were going right for me at last. But then you started Art College and you met Stu. And suddenly it seemed I didn’t exist anymore. Instead of spending time with me, you started hanging around him all the time. You only spend time with me when we were performing, so I just held on to those moments.”

“And then I discovered that even though Mr. Maxwell wasn’t abusing me anymore, he still had a firm hold on my life. Dad had to work late at the night we had a performance, and he told me not to worry about Mike, because he would ask Mr. Maxwell to look after him. But of course I worried! I didn’t want him to abuse Mike as well. So I had to cancel our gig and you got so angry with me, threatening to throw me out of the band. The only thing in the world that would be bring me some happiness.”

John remembered that night. He had been so angry about Paul cancelling at the last minute that he had indeed suggested that if Paul didn’t get his priorities straight, he’d better leave the band. The gig had been absolutely awful! They had been nothing without Paul. And now he found out Paul did get his priorities straight. He had to protect his little brother; that was his first priority. Not the band. God he felt awful for being so hard on Paul now, for threatening to take away the only thing in life that made Paul happy. And him keeping his distance from Paul by spending all his time with Stu, because he was afraid he couldn’t keep his hands of him, had hurt Paul so deeply. Paul had to cope with so much in his life and he had only added to Paul’s pain. And again he felt his tears falling from his eyes.

***

“And then you told me we were going to Hamburg. I was ecstatic! But then I realized it would mean leaving Mike in the hands of that horrible man for four months. I couldn’t do that. No matter how much I wanted to come with you, I just couldn’t do that. You demanded an answer, but I couldn’t give you one. I simply couldn’t tell you what had happened, I was so ashamed. I pleaded with you to postpone the gig in Hamburg, because Mike would have turned sixteen by then and didn’t need Mr. Maxwell to look after him anymore. But you threw me out of the band. You hit me, and told me I was dead for you. My whole world collapsed that day.”

“I tried to move on, started teacher training college, got my own apartment. But it wasn’t what I really wanted. And I missed you so much, I felt so lonely and empty inside. On top of that my nightmares started to get worse. Sometimes they seemed so real that when I woke up, I didn’t dare to go back to sleep again. And it wasn’t just Mr. Maxwell who kept hurting me in those dreams. It was also you telling me I was dead for you.”

“After one of those terrible nightmares I just couldn’t take it anymore. I simply didn’t want to go on anymore. So I walked to the docks to end it all by jumping in the cold water. Dusty just happened to walk by at that exact moment and kept me from committing suicide. So you see, that time you saved me from topping myself, wasn’t the first time I tried.”

Of course John knew that hadn’t been the first time. When he finally had gotten back together with Paul again, Steve had told him about Paul’s suicide attempt. He never told Paul he knew, though. 

And now he finally knew why Paul hadn’t come to Hamburg with him, he felt absolutely awful. Paul needed to protect his little brother and had sacrificed himself, had given up his own happiness, in order to do so. John should have known Paul wouldn’t give up on the band for no good reason. The boy had loved their band! He should have known there had to be a very legitimate reason Paul didn’t want to come to Hamburg with him. But what did he do? He threw Paul out of the band and thus created a pool of darkness and unhappiness for both of them, which had ultimately led to Paul trying to end his life. He had never felt so guilty in his life before.

***

“I had never felt so happy in my life as when you kissed me for the first time, that night we met again at the Cavern. I had missed you so much, and now I not only had you back in my life again, but you actually felt the same way about me as I felt about you! You wanted me just as much as I wanted you. You loved me! That night was just pure bliss, making love to you for the first time. And then you moved in with me and we started living together and everything just fell completely into place when you asked me to join the band again.”

“But then you gave me a blowjob. I thought I had died and gone to heaven, it was _that_ amazing. But soon I realized you would want _me_ to give _you_ one too. And it scared me. Because suddenly I remembered what it was like when I had to take Mr. Maxwell in my mouth. How it had made me gag, how I couldn’t breathe, the awful taste. I just couldn’t do it. But I knew how much you wanted me to do it, and I was so afraid you would leave me if I didn’t come around. And I didn’t want to lose you again. You meant the world to me. It was such a stressful time. Every time we made love I was afraid you would ask me to take you in my mouth and that you would break up with me if I refused."

"I finally told myself to get over my fears or lose you forever and went down on you for the first time. Luckily it wasn’t nearly as horrible as I remembered, and soon I really liked pleasuring you that way, but it had been so hard to get over my fears.”

John remembered seeing the fear in Paul’s eyes when he had asked Paul to return the pleasure and give him a blowjob. He had seen that fear over and over again every time he had made the suggestion. He had thought at the time it was an irrational fear, but he had never asked Paul why he had been so afraid. Why didn’t he ask him? He should have realised something was not right. He really fucked up there again, didn’t he? 

He also remembered Paul saying he had forgotten how awful sperm tasted. He had wondered how Paul knew and had asked him about it. Paul had told him, blushing heavily, he had tasted his own cum out of curiosity. He now realized what a bullshit answer that had been!

***

“I tried very hard to push away the memories of Mr. Maxwell, but sometimes I still had nightmares about him. But you would always calm me down and made me feel so cherished. But in the back of my mind the fear that you would ask me to let you take me kept simmering. I always thought that one day you would ask me for the one type of sex I couldn’t give you and that you would leave me. And when you got so angry at me after our failed audition at Decca, I thought it was your way of ending our relationship. And I almost ended my life because of it.”

The horrible time he had thought for days that Paul had killed himself came back to John, making him shiver. He never ever wanted to feel so lost again. He realized it had been his own fault, the way he had acted towards Paul, but the realization that Paul would never have been so scared and confused about losing John, if Mr. Maxwell hadn’t sexually abused him so terribly for years, made him so angry. That fuckin’ bastard! He should have kept his bloody hands of Paul!

***

“I was so happy our album got to number one; we’ve been working so hard for so long to reach the top, and it finally all paid off. And we did it together, you and me; our songs, our voices. And when we came back here and you kissed me, I was dying to make love to you. But you got so violent, you really hurt me, and you didn’t stop when I asked you to. And then you tried to push your fingers inside of me, and I got so scared! All the memories of the pain came rushing back. I couldn’t go through that again, the feeling of being ripped apart, the feeling of being burned inside. It really, really hurts, John. It’s the most excruciating pain I’ve ever felt. A pain I wouldn’t even want my worst enemy to experience. But you didn’t stop and I really thought you were going to rape me. And then you told me I didn’t love you.......”

“But I do love you, John, more than I can possibly say! I would swim across the ocean to give you anything you want. But this is something I can’t give you, I just can’t! _Never.”_

Paul paused for a few seconds. Up until now he had managed to keep himself together and tell his story without much emotion, like it wasn’t his own life he was talking about. But the next words were so difficult to say. He knew he had to say them anyway. “And if that means you don’t want me anymore, I’ll understand, Johnny. I’ll understand if you’d rather want a man who wants to get fucked up the arse instead of me. And what’s more, I’m tainted aren’t I, I’m dirty....... _so dirty.......”_ He couldn’t stop a sob coming out when he said those last words, no matter how hard he tried. Because he just knew John was going to leave him now.

***

The heartbreaking words and sob were like a dagger in John’s heart. In two quick steps he was by Paul’s side, sat down next to him and gathered him up in his arms. Paul’s naked body felt cold, intensely cold. He held him close, pressing Paul’s head in the crook of his neck, and buried his nose in the dark locks. 

Oh how he had failed Paul. How could he not have noticed what was happening to him? And how could he not have noticed the emotional pain he had been in for years? Why didn’t he dig deeper, why didn’t he try to find out what was wrong with him? There had been signs all along the way that something was terribly wrong. From the bloodstains on the sheets, to the sudden cancellations of rehearsals and gigs. From his denial to come to Hamburg with him without giving a good reason, to the seemingly unexplainable suicide attempts. From the fear of giving him a blowjob that seemed so irrational, to his absolute anxiety when it came to anal sex. He should have realized there had to be a deeper explanation, a dark secret. How could he have been so blind? How could he have failed the love of his life so terribly?

And now Paul thought he didn’t want him anymore because he thought he was _dirty?_ Why would he think Paul was dirty? He wasn’t dirty! He was his beautiful, darling boy! The man he wanted to spend his entire life with, with or without anal sex! Their relationship was much, so much more than just sexual. They were soulmates, musical partners, emotional partners, lovers, friends. Paul was strong where John was weak and vice versa. They complemented each other in every way, in every aspect of their lives, they were yin and yang, day and night, sun and moon. He would never let Paul go. Life without Paul was just not possible. 

He made a promise to himself to make sure that no one would ever hurt Paul again. He would protect him with his life. He would make sure that Paul would never feel fear again, would never endure pain again, would always feel loved. For he loved Paul. And he had so much to make up for, he had made so many mistakes. He pressed the young man even closer to his side, stroking his velvety hair and whispered “Oh, Paul........”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So John finally knows what has happened to Paul. What will this mean for their relationship?


	50. THE DAY AFTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> The day after that difficult night. Will things change between them now Paul has told John his story?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John held Paul for a long, long time. The young man had started crying and every heartbreaking sob send another dagger through John’s heart. He felt like his whole life had been completely turned upside down. Nothing seemed right any more. How could he go back to living a normal life, knowing what had happened to Paul? Hell, how could Paul even lead a normal life!

Paul’s crying had slowed down to the occasional sob, and John softly pushed the cold body away from his own. “Here, you’re freezing.” He took off his own bathrobe and put it across Paul’s shoulders. “I’ll get you a glass of water.” 

When he returned from the bathroom, Paul looked up to him. His eyes were red, droplets of tears in his long eyelashes, and the tracks of his tears clearly showed on his pale cheeks. But the thing that really hurt John to the core was the look of total despair in those eyes. He looked so sad and lonely, sitting there crunched up on the bed, John’s bathrobe across his shoulders. Suddenly he looked so incredibly young, like a lost little ten-year old, waiting in fear for what was to come. 

“Oh Paul......”John’s whole being was filled with compassion. _Compassion for that little boy_ that had been so brutally raped by an adult. _If only he could have been there for him then. Compassion for the teenager_ he had known, and that not only had to endure sexual abuse but also had done everything to protect his brother. _He should have been there for him then. Compassion for the beautiful young man_ he was so in love with, and who had to carry that enormous weight on his shoulders all alone for so many years and finally found the courage to tell his story. _He could be there for him now._ He could and he would.

He put the glass on the bedside table, sat down next to Paul and pushed some dark locks away from his forehead. “Oh Paul......” The young man’s desperate eyes were glued to his as a trembling voice whispered “I suppose you don’t want me anymore now......” He cupped Paul’s cheeks and looked deep in those hazel eyes, trying to make his next words the most meaningful words he had ever said in his life. _“I love you,_ Paul. I will _never_ leave you. And from now on, you don’t have to carry that weight alone anymore. I’ll be there carrying it with you, every day of your life. Nobody will _ever_ hurt you again. I promise you that. _I. Love. You.”_

***

Paul had finally fallen asleep in John’s arms. He held the young man’s head close to his heart all night, listening to his very soft snoring, his warm breath grazing his chest, the dark hair tickling his chin. He didn’t sleep a wink. Paul’s story kept replaying in his head, over and over again. He felt so utterly sorry for him. He also started to realize how incredibly strong Paul had been, carrying that deep dark secret with him for all those years, with nobody to share it with, but still managing to live his life.

But what bothered him most of all was his own feeling of guilt. He felt so enormously guilty for not having seen Paul’s pain. No, that wasn’t right. He felt guilty because he _had_ seen Paul’s pain, the physical pain as well as the emotional pain. And he had done nothing to help him. On the contrary, he had only added to it. By not asking Paul about the bloodstains. By pushing Paul away from him in favour of Stu, when he had left for Hamburg without him, when he pressured Paul in giving him a blow job, when he had almost forced himself upon him tonight. All those times he _had_ seen Paul’s pain, fear and despair, that showed so clearly in those expressive eyes, and yet he had chosen to ignore it. He was a real bastard, wasn’t he?

***

Mal knocked on the door of their hotel room. “John, Paul, time to wake up. Breakfast is served in 30 minutes. We’re leaving in 75.” John looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table and then to the face of the boy that was sleeping peacefully in his arms. It was morning then. But there was no way he was going to wake Paul up. After all the stress of last night, the boy needed his rest. 

He managed to slip out of bed without waking Paul up, the young man’s head softly shifting from John’s chest to the pillow where he proceeded to sleep peacefully, dark hair a mess, lips slightly parted, the long, black lashes resting on the ivory cheeks. John smiled at the sight; Paul was beautiful.

He opened the door ajar and immediately pressed his index finger to his lips, signalling Mal to stay quiet. “Morning John” the big friendly giant whispered “Time to rise and shine.” John shook his head. “Be quiet, Mal, Paul’s still asleep and I’d like to keep it that way for a little while. He’s.......he’s not doing so well. Go tell Brian to cancel tonight’s show. Paul’s in no condition to perform tonight.” Mal raised his eyebrows. “Paul can’t perform tonight? He must be really ill then, he never asks to cancel a show, even if he’s not completely well. Never wants to let the fans down. Should I ask Brian to send a doctor?” Mal looked at him with concern written all over his face. “No need for a doctor, Mal. Just tell Brian to cancel the show and to book the room for another night.”

***

He should have known Brian wouldn’t just cancel a show like that, but would want a better explanation than Paul being in no condition to perform. 5 minutes later, the man himself stood in front of the hotel room, demanding entrance. Paul still remained on the bed like a true Sleeping Beauty, although he actually looked more like Snow-White with his pale complexion and dark hair. No way John was letting Brian in. So he opened the door and quickly slipped into the corridor, in his bathrobe and barefoot. 

“What’s this about Paul not being able to perform tonight, John? And maybe I should come in instead of holding our conversation in a public corridor where everyone can overhear us?” Brian whispered angrily. “Paul’s asleep, and I don’t want our conversation to wake him up. He needs to sleep today. He had a very rough night, as a matter of fact, both of us had a very rough night, so today we’re going to rest and not perform tonight. So you’d better cancel the show.” He turned around to enter the room again, but Brian grabbed his arm. “I can’t just cancel the show without a good reason, John! If Paul’s ill, I will send a doctor to see what’s wrong with him, and he could give him some medication that might make him feel well enough by tonight so he can perform. Now let me talk to him myself.” 

Brian reached for the doorknob, but John pushed him away. “You’re not going in there! Paul’s asleep and you’re not going to wake him up! Just cancel the bloody show for tonight, alright? I’m sure he’ll be able to perform tomorrow, but not tonight!” 

“What the hell is wrong, John? Did you guys fight last night? Oh God, you’ve _hit_ him, didn’t you? And now his face is bruised? You and your terrible temper! Well, nothing that can’t be fixed with a bit of make-up.” John looked at Brian in astonishment. _“I didn’t hit him!_ I’ll _never_ hit him! It’s nothing like that! We didn’t get into a fight! What the hell makes you think we fought? I can’t believe you’d think I would hit him!” Of course the memory of him hitting Paul after he refused to go to Hamburg with crossed his mind. But that was a one time thing. He’d never do that again!

“Well, you do tend to get a temper when you’ve drank too much, and last night you were clearly anything but sober. And since you refuse to let me see him, I thought you might have hit him.” “Well I didn’t. But tonight’s show has to be cancelled. Like I said, we’ve had a rough night and we need to recover from it.“ Brian remained silent for a few seconds. “You guys had a lovers-quarrel then?”

***

John’s mouth had dropped open after Brian’s last remark. A lovers-quarrel? Did Brian _know_ about them? He couldn’t know! Nobody knew! Yes, Dusty and Steve knew, but they wouldn’t tell anybody about their relationship! And Stu had known, but he was dead. How could Brian possible know? He looked at Brian, very confused “What do you mean? _A lovers-quarrel?”_ Brian sighed “I’m not a complete fool, John. Being a homosexual man, I recognize the signs.” John felt himself pale. They had always been so careful and now Brian said he knew about them? He’d recognized the signs? “How long have you know?” he whispered. “Almost from the start, John.” “Have we been that obvious?”

Brian looked at him with compassion. “Not when you see the two of you apart, John. But when you are together.......The looks, the touches, finishing each other’s sentences........The way you always look at Paul...... seeking his approval, before you say something......The way Paul always defends you when you’ve done something wrong......Maybe it’s not obvious to most bystanders, but, like I said, being homosexual, I see the signs, I feel the vibe you send off. I did so almost from the start.”

John pressed his hands to his eyes. They had been so sure that nobody would find out about them. And now it seemed that they had been sending off vibes all along? How many other people would have picked up on that? “Do you think others know? I mean other queer men? Or George and Ringo?” Brian shook his head. “I’m sure George and Ringo don’t know. They just think you’re freakily close friends. And as for other homosexual men? Some of them might pick up the vibe, but they don’t really know for sure, do they? And they would hardly mention their suspicions in public, since it would give their own sexual orientation away.”

“So, did you?” Brian asked. John looked at him puzzled. “Did I what?” “Have a lovers-quarrel?” John slowly shook his head. “No, we didn’t. Paul has told me something......Something very unnerving. I can’t tell you what it’s about, but it has been so hard for him to tell, and I have been so shocked about it. It has really thrown us both off our feet. It’s so difficult to cope with......We really need some time to get ourselves back together, to get our feet back on solid ground. We really do, Brian.”

“And if you go in there and ask Paul to perform, he undoubtedly will go on tonight, because he’ll feel he has the obligation to do so. But it wouldn’t be good for him to do so; he’s too shaken up to do so right now. So I have to stand up for him, protect him, because he won’t be doing that himself. He never thinks about what’s good for _him._ Only ever thinks about _others._ That’s what he’s like. But now it’s time somebody takes his interests at heart. So that’s what I’m doing. So please cancel the show?”

***

Brian finally agreed to cancel the show as long as John agreed to play the next night. John went back inside and found Paul sitting up in bed, looking rather stressed out. The eyes that looked up at him as he entered seemed way too big and John saw nothing but fear in them. “Hey, you’re awake. How are you feeling, love?” He saw Paul swallow. “I thought you had left.......” John squatted down in front of the bed, placing his hands on Paul’s legs. “Why would I leave, baby? I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Paul looked down at his hands. “I thought you might have changed your mind. About me. Because I’m _dirty.......”_ “You’re not dirty, Paul, please stop saying that!” “I _feel_ dirty though. I always feel his hands on my body, _everywhere,_ leaving fingerprints that never go away. _Dirty fingerprints......”_ Paul chewed his bottom lip nervously. “You certainly don’t want somebody with dirty fingerprints all over him.”

John suddenly stood up and grabbed Paul’s arm. “Come with me.” Paul looked at him, confused. “Where are we going?” “To the bathroom. Come with me, love.” He pushed Paul into the shower, tuned on the water and took off his bathrobe to join Paul in the shower. He took a washcloth and squeezed some shower gel on it. Then he started to wash Paul’s body, from top to toe, until every inch of the naked skin was covered in soap. “John, what are you doing?” Paul asked with a voice full of confusion.“I’m washing off those dirty fingerprints that bastard has left on you, baby.” 

He grabbed the shower hose and started to rinse off the soap. “Look” he said, pointing at the soap that disappeared into the shower drain. “There the dirty fingerprints go. _Washed away forever._ And they will _never_ come back. They’re gone. You’re all clean now. No need to feel dirty anymore. My beautiful boy.”

Paul looked at him with big questioning eyes. “Yeah? They’re gone? You don’t find me dirty anymore?” “I never thought you were dirty in the first place, my darling. But what’s far more important: I don’t want you to consider _yourself_ dirty anymore. Because you’re _not_ Paul, _you never were._ Don’t let that bastard make you think you are anymore.”

Paul’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “God, I feel so much better. I don’t feel his hands on me anymore. _His fingerprints are gone._ They’re really gone......” The tears started falling, but he was smiling at John through his tears. _“They’re gone......”_ John wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist and smiled back at him. “Yes, they’re gone, baby, and they’re never coming back. The bastard can’t hurt you anymore. And I will make _damn sure_ nobody else will ever hurt you again.”

***

They stayed in their room all day long, lying on their bed holding each other tight, exchanging loving looks and soft kisses, ordering room service to stop their stomachs from growling. Paul had been shocked when he found out John had cancelled that night’s show, and wanted to go to Brian to say he’d go on anyway. But John held on to his decision and Paul finally gave in. Maybe John was right. Maybe he did need some time to get himself together. Talking about the horror movie that had been his life, had left him emotionally drained. But at the same time he felt so much lighter; like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

But when John started to apologize for not being there for Paul in his hours of need, Paul became very agitated. “You don’t have to apologize for _anything,_ John! Don’t be ridiculous! You _didn’t know_ what was happening!” “But I _should_ have seen it Paul. Hell, I _did_ see it! I saw bloodstains on your sheets when I came by when you were home sick. _I saw the bloodstains!_ And I should have asked you about it. I _meant_ to ask you about it, but somehow I never did. I really, _really_ failed you.” Paul stood up from the bed and started pacing the room. “I wouldn’t have told you the truth, John, I would have lied about it. The way I lied to my dad about it. So there’s absolutely _no need_ to apologize for not seeing what was happening. I did _my very best_ to make sure _nobody_ found out. So I guess I can only blame _myself.”_

“You’re not to blame for _anything,_ Paul! You were _a child,_ for heaven’s sake! That bastard was an adult who should have kept his hands off you! Don’t _ever_ think you did something wrong, you were completely _innocent!_ And by the way, how _did_ you explain those bloodstains to your dad?”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly throw the sheet away like I did with my underpants. So I told him I had a nose bleeding.” John looked at him with a frown. “Didn’t he think it was a rather strange place for blood coming out of your nose, that low on the sheet?” Paul let out a nervous chuckle. “Oh, I had it all covered, John. I told him I didn’t realize I had a nose bleeding and wiped my nose with my hand, so the blood was on my hand and caused the stains on the sheet. You see, I had my lies _all ready_ to cover up everything that was going on. I would have told you the same lie if you had asked me about it. I was so ashamed about everything, I’d done _anything_ to prevent anybody finding out. So _please_ don’t feel guilty you didn’t see it.”

“But why didn’t your dad notice? Why didn’t he see your pain? Why didn’t he see the emotional pain you were in? And the physical pain? Hell, didn’t he realize you were _always ill_ the day after that bastard had been there? He _should_ have noticed! He’s _your father_ for crying out loud!”

“Please don’t blame dad, John! He worked so hard trying to provide for us. He tried _so hard_ to be a good father by not leaving his children alone at night, but providing us with a babysitter. He had been so worried about not being able to afford paying someone and Mr. Maxwell did it for free. He was so happy there was someone minding us when he was working. His son being abused was probably the last thing that would have crossed his mind. Who would _ever_ think about something like that! It’s not exactly something you hear about all the time, is it? So please, John, don’t blame him! _I don’t blame him.......”_

John sighed deeply. “I don’t know, Macca.......I still think _he_ should have noticed something was wrong. And _I_ should have noticed.......If only you would have told me. I would have ripped the bastard’s head of his body!” 

Paul sat down on the bed again, grabbing John’s hand. “I know you would have, Johnny. But then you would have ended up in jail for murder and we wouldn’t be sitting here together now........”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So their relationship is as strong af ever, maybe even stronger. And in the next chapter the boys will pay Liverpool a visit again.


	51. PAUL'S BIRTHDAY PARTY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Paul is confronted with the effects of his newfound fame. John is supposed to see his aunt, but he pays somebody else a visit instead. And Paul turns 21!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

A few weeks later, they found themselves back in Liverpool for the first time in six weeks for a show at the Empire Theatre, a far cry from their usual gigs at the Cavern Club. They arrived in their home town the night before from Sheffield. And the day before that, they had actually taped the first episode of their very own radio show “Pop Go The Beatles.” It had been a lot of fun doing that. With two number one singles and an album at the top of the charts as well, they had suddenly become the number one band of the UK!

And while George and Ringo spent the night at their respective parents, John and Paul returned to their apartment. It had been a long time since they’d been there. “Maybe we should cancel the rent, you know, we’re hardly ever here and we have to pay rent every month” Paul contemplated. “But where should we stay when we’re in Liverpool then?” Paul raised his eyebrows “Well, I could stay at Forthlin and you at Mendips. I’m sure my dad and Mimi would love to have us.” John moaned. “But I wouldn’t be _with you,_ baby, and you know how much I want to be with you.” He wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist from behind and kissed Paul’s neck. “As a matter of fact, _I really want you now.”_

Paul chuckled. “I know you do, Johnny, but remember we were planning on paying our family a visit tonight. And since it’s already running late, I really have to leave for Forthlin before my dad goes to sleep. Now off you go, I’m sure Mimi would be delighted to see you as well. See you later!” He pressed a kiss to John’s cheek and left the apartment in a hurry, before John would be able to convince him to stay instead of visiting dad and Mike. John had those ways to convince him.......

***

John didn’t go to see his aunt though. He had other things planned. The story Paul had told him about Mr. Maxwell had left John deeply hurt. His heart and mind were still at so much turmoil that it made it difficult for him to sleep at night. He needed to talk to somebody about it. He knew he had promised Paul not to tell anybody about it, but he had to share his feelings with somebody, otherwise he would be going completely mad! So when he knocked on Dusty and Steve’s door, he pushed the guilt for betraying Paul to the back of his mind. He wouldn’t tell Paul about his visit, and what the boy didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him.

“John! What a surprise! Come in son, Paul not with you?” Dusty greeted him warmly as he looked around to see if Paul was there as well. “No, I’ve come alone, I’m afraid. Paul’s visiting his dad, so you’ll have to settle for me. I hope you don’t mind?” Dusty shook his head “Of course we don’t mind! Steve! John’s here!” Steve came rushing from the living room as John stepped through the door. “John, so good to see you! It’s been months! Paul didn’t come with you?” John chuckled. “It’s really touching to see how you two react to see me, guys. The first thing you ask me, after not having seen me in ages, is not “How are you, John?” but “Where is Paul?” You sure know how to make me feel welcome.” 

“No, no, John, you’re _more_ than welcome, it’s just we’re so used to seeing you two together.” Steve hastily apologized. “I’m just joking Steve. Truth is, Paul doesn’t know I’m here and I like to keep it that way.” He sat down on the coach, seeing Dusty and Steve exchange a concerned look. “Is everything alright John? Did you and Paul have a falling out?” Dusty said worriedly as he sat down next to John. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. Nothing like that at all. On the contrary I’d say. I think we’re doing better than ever as a matter of fact. It’s just.......”John hesitated for a moment. He promised Paul not to share his story with anyone, but he really, really needed to talk to somebody, or he’d go completely mad! _“Paul has told me something......”_

***

Paul was happy to see his dad again. It had been many weeks since he’d seen him last, with all the touring they were constantly doing. And on top of that, they were doing radios shows and tv shows. Tv shows! Can you imagine that! They were not only appearing on the radio but on tv as well! They were very, very busy, but Paul loved every minute of it. They had become real stars, and everywhere they went, fans would line up to see them. It was what he had always wanted. 

He did feel a bit homesick sometimes though, missed the sounds of Liverpool, missed the smell of the Irish see, missed the Scouse accent around every corner, missed his dad and Mike, his uncles and aunts. And since after tomorrow’s show they’d be touring again for three weeks right up until his birthday, he took the opportunity to pay a visit to Forthlin Road with both hands.

He wasn’t prepared however for what he found there. Outside the tiny front garden, so neatly maintained by his dad, standing on the pavement, were something like two dozen of...... _young girls?_

Paul hesitated for a minute. What were those girls doing there? Suddenly one of them looked his way, recognized him and a high shriek “Paul!!!” broke the silence. Before he had time to register what was going on, he was surrounded by teenage girls, pushing, shoving, grabbing him, while they hysterically cried out his name at a deafening noise level. 

Suddenly the front door opened, and the familiar figure of his dad appeared. He walked out of the garden to the pavement, Mike in tow, as his calming voice tried to convince the girls to leave his son alone. “Come on, young ladies, leave Paul alone now, he’s come to visit us. We haven’t seen him in weeks, so please give him some space so he can come in.” Mike managed to grab his arm and pulled a completely bewildered Paul towards the front door. 

“What the hell was that all about?” Paul managed to stutter, looking at Mike with questioning eyes. “Your fans” Mike chuckled. “They’ve been camping outside our front door for weeks now, hoping to catch a glimpse of _you,_ brother dear. And they got lucky tonight!” Paul’s mouth dropped open as he looked from Mike to his dad and back. _“Camping outside our door? To see me?_ You’ve got to be joking?” His dad put an arm around his shoulder. “No son, it’s true. Those girls are so crazy about you they actually _sleep outside our door._ I feel sorry for them, so I give them tea and cookies sometimes, but there’s more and more of them each day.” 

“You could have warned me about that” Paul grumbled. “I didn’t expect to be ambushed by a flock of birds upon my return home.” Make patted him on the back “Well, if you don’t want them, I’ll be happy to take them of your back, Paulie! There are some really pretty ones out there, you know.” Paul looked at his younger brother and cried out horrified “Mike! You’re much too young for that!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Paul! I’m eighteen already, I’m not a kid anymore. Just because _you_ still don’t have a girlfriend, which I find hard to believe with all the female attention you’re getting, doesn’t mean _I’m_ not allowed to have one!”

Paul entered the small living room and took in the familiar surroundings: dad’s comfy armchair, the slightly worn out carpet, the fireplace, with a framed photo of his mum on the mantelpiece, the small television set, the piano.......It brought back memories of a childhood that had been full of love and music, but that at the same time had been so full of sadness, fear and pain. He shook away the dark thoughts that tried to occupy his mind. Don’t think about that, Paul. Think happy thoughts, think about how good it is to see dad and Mike again.

“I’m far too busy for a girlfriend, Mikey. We’ve been touring the country for weeks now, and will continue to do so till mid September. And in between we’ll be recording for our next album and a new single, which John and I still have to write, and we’re doing radio and tv shows.......We hardly have any time off! I’m not complaining, mind you, we wanted to be famous and apparently we are! But right now," he sighed deeply _"I could really do with a cup of tea.”_ Jim smiled at his son. He was so proud of what the boy had achieved. “A cup of tea coming right up, son.”

***

At one point during John’s story, Dusty and Steve had moved to the coach, sitting on either side of John. They had listened in silence, hands slapping to their mouths every now and then in pure horror. “He asked me not to tell anybody what he has told me, and I promised I wouldn’t, but I really need to share this with somebody. I’m so upset, you know, I hardly sleep at night. I just can’t.......I can’t get a grip.......How can somebody do something like that to a child? How can you hurt a young boy like that? And _nobody_ noticed anything. _I_ didn’t notice anything! No, I’m lying, I _did_ notice something was wrong, but I never acted on it, never asked him.......I have seen bloodstains on his sheets. I meant to ask him about the, but never did! And all the times I’ve asked him to let me fuck him and calling him names because he wouldn’t....... _God, I feel so bloody guilty!”_

Steve had closed his eyes. “Dear Lord, thinking about what he went through makes me shiver. He was _so young!_ He must have been so afraid and in so much pain. The bastard only thought about his own pleasure of course, never considered how much he’d hurt Paul. Penetration without the proper preparation is horribly painful. _And at the age of ten........_ And then having to carry the weight of that secret alone for all those years. Poor, poor kid.”

Dusty had been awfully quiet. “I didn’t notice........” he suddenly whispered. “And I’ve had him in my class since he was eleven! I saw his sadness, but always assumed it was because of his mother dying. I should have realized it was something more.......He was home sick so often......He looked so lost and lonely sometimes........ _Oh God, why didn’t I notice?_ The hell that poor boy must have lived in for so many years. Why didn’t I try to find out what was wrong with him?” Dusty started sobbing. “How could I have failed him so badly? _Why didn’t I see?”_

“Stop it, both of you!” Steve suddenly cried out. _“Stop feeling guilty!_ Nobody saw what was happening, because Paul _didn’t want_ anybody to notice! We all know very well how secretive he can be about his feelings, how he closes up like an oyster when things bother him. He doesn’t talk! If you had asked him back then about the bloodstains, John, he would have lied about it. And if you, Dusty love, had asked him what was wrong he would probably have told you a story about missing his mum. _He wouldn’t have told either one of you the truth._ Because he didn’t want anyone to know. And it’s impossible to help someone if he doesn’t let you in. So it useless to feel guilty.”

“But he opened up to you now, John. And that’s a real breakthrough. And it’s a starting point for his healing. And we’re going to help him heal. We can do that for him now. And he _will_ need our help. He _will_ need us to heal the pain, to learn to deal with the trauma, to start living his life without that bastard controlling his life. And we _will_ be there for him, every step of the way, because now we can help him, now we know. Now we can do what we couldn’t do for him in the past: give him support, make him feel protected, make him feel loved and cared for. Just be there for him. _Whenever he needs us.”  
_

***

A few weeks later, Paul celebrated his 21st birthday. They were back in Liverpool for the occasion, having arrived the night before, after recording another episode of their own radio show “Pop Go The Beatles.” It still amazed Paul that they had their own radio show. And their album still held the number one spot! And now he was having a birthday party at his auntie Gin’s. Her house was bigger than Forthin and it had a nice back garden where his uncle had put up a marquee where the party was held. Too bad they had to travel back to London next morning to record their presence on another radio show called “Easy Beat”, but nothing to be done about that, it was the price of fame. And Paul was willing to pay that price.

There were lots of guests: dad and Mike of course, all his aunts, uncles and cousins, John, George and Ringo, Brian, Dusty and Steve, Billy J. Kramer, The Shadows, Bob Wooler, the disc jockey from The Cavern, and lots of others. Paul had asked The Fourmost to perform and there was a beautiful 2-layer cake with white icing and 21 candles. He had received some lovely presents (but nothing from John, strangely enough) and he had a great time. That is, until some heated shouting reached his ears.

“Stop it John!” he heard Brian call out and everybody rushed toward a spot under the marquee where two men appeared to be fighting. He immediately recognized John, beating the living daylights out of the man underneath him. People were trying to pull John off the man, but John looked like he was going to kill the man. Paul rushed over, hoping to stop the fighting, but his uncles had managed to drag John away, revealing the bloodied face of Bob Wooler. The man seemed badly injured and Brian took it upon him to drive him to the hospital after ordering Ringo to drive John back to his apartment. _“And make sure he stays there!”_

Paul watched Ringo leave with John, who threw him an apologetic look, without saying a word. What on earth had that been all about? Well, he would have to ask him later, the bastard, spoiling his party like that! Paul tried to enjoy the rest of the evening, but without John there, his birthday simply wasn’t complete. His mind kept seeing visions of John pounding away at Bob Wooler in complete fury. It seemed like John had been out to kill the man. And suddenly he didn’t want to stay there anymore. He wanted to go to John, _needed_ to go to John. _He needed to find out what was wrong._

***

Ringo had driven him back to his apartment and had come upstairs with John. “You can go home now, Ritch, I’ll be alright” he told the drummer as he turned the key to open the door. “I’m sure you’ll be alright, John” Ringo said, as he walked in behind John. “But since Brian told me to make sure you’ll stay here, that’s what I’m gonna do. So you’re stuck with me, mate. At least until Paul comes back.” 

“I don’t need to be looked after, Ritch!” John replied angrily. “I think you do, John. You were totally out of control there. What was that fight about anyway?” John went to the refrigerator and took out two bottles of beer. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink tonight, John? Put them back! I’ll make you a cup of coffee instead.” Ringo grabbed the bottles and put them back in the fridge. “Well good luck with that” John said. “No coffee to be found in this place. Paul doesn’t like it. Says it’s not British.” Ringo raised his eyebrows. “Strange reason not to drink coffee. Well, sit down and I’ll make you a cup of tea instead. So tell me, what was the fight about?” “None of your bloody business” John snarled. “Well excuse me for living. But you’d better come up with an answer for Paul when he comes back here tonight. _If_ he comes back at all. I assume he’s probably very pissed at you ruining his party.” John groaned as he sat down on the couch. He spoiled Paul’s party. His twenty-first. It was supposed to be a special one. A very special one. And he spoiled it. Fuck!

***

Paul arrived back shortly after midnight, having left his own party early, saying he was sorry, but he had to turn in at a reasonable time because of their appointment in London the next day. “But make sure you all enjoy the rest of the evening. Won’t be seeing you a lot in the months to come. We’re touring all across the country for the next three months and in between we will be recording our next album. But if the gruesome schedule Brian has us on, allows it, I’ll try to drop by, dad. Thanks for coming everybody!”

When Paul walked into their apartment, he found John and Ringo asleep on the couch. Paul sighed. John always looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. “Ritch! Rithie! Wake up!” He gently shook Ringo’s arm, and their drummer woke up, looking around him, startled. “What? What’s up?” Paul chuckled. “It’s just me, mate. You can go home. I’ll take care of John now. Thanks for staying, though, much appreciated. See you tomorrow!”He shoved Ringo, who was still half asleep, out of the door. “Don’t fall down the stairs, they’re very stee........” He saw Ringo miss the last few steps “......steep. Are you alright down there, Ritch?” Ringo had somehow managed to keep himself from falling to the floor. “Yeah, I’m fine. You do know these stairs are very steep, don’t you? Could have warned me. Well, goodnight then, I’ll be seeing you in a couple of hours. And make sure John is sobered up, will you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Paul's party turned a bit sour. We'll find out why in the next chapter. And John still has to give Paul a birthday present.......


	52. A PROMISE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John has to explain his actions at the party to Paul. And he still has to give Paul his birthday present. He's rather nervous about that though......

“John? John, wake up. Johnny!” John was sure he heard Paul’s voice calling out to him. But that couldn’t be right, could it? Paul was at the party. His birthday party. The party he had so effectively spoiled by beating up Bob Wooler. The bastard. He deserved it. “John, I’m home, wake up, love, time to go to bed.” That couldn’t be right either, could it? Wake up to go to bed? He felt a hand grab his shoulder, shaking it softly. “Johnny?” He cautiously opened one eye and saw a blurry figure standing over him. But no matter how blurry his vision was, he’d recognize that face anywhere. Paul. Fuck! 

“Hi, Paul. Did you have a nice birthday party?” He could have smacked himself to the head. Of course the lad didn’t have a nice party! He had spoiled it after all. Now he would have to explain. He felt himself sober up instantly. Knowing Paul, he would demand an explanation. Paul shoved John’s legs to the side, sat down next to him and sighed deeply. “Yeah, it was fine, that is, until you......” “I’m sorry, Paul, I’m really sorry, but Wooler had it coming.” Paul watched John with a defeated look in his eyes. “He had it coming? He had it coming to be beaten up by you? If they hadn’t managed to pull you off of him, you could have killed him, John, the way you were going on. What on earth did he do to deserve that? If he presses charges, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble, you know. Not to mention the bad publicity it may cause. Better hope Brian will be able to calm him down.”

“He insulted you, Paul! He said such horrible things about you, I just couldn’t help myself! I had to do something. And you know me, being provoked and drunk doesn’t bring out the best in me on such occasions.” Paul shook his head. “Johnny, oh Johnny, what am I going to do with you? So what did he say about me then, that got you so wound up?” Now John shook his head. “No need to repeat that bastard’s words. It was very insulting, that’s all you have to know.” “That’s not enough, John! You ruined my party, so I think I have the right to know what he said. Besides, I thought we agreed on telling each other everything? No more secrets? So spit it out: what did he say about me?”

John gnawed his bottom lip and looked down at his hands. Should he tell Paul about Bob Wooler’s insulting words? There was no need for Paul to know, it would only hurt him. And he didn’t want Paul to get hurt, not ever again. But when he looked up and his eyes met Paul’s questioning ones, he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to him. Damn Paul and his kaleidoscope eyes! “He.......eh......he said you were very _pretty,_ and......eh......he could understand why Brian wanted to manage us. He wondered if he had already fucked you up the arse, since you were practically _asking_ for it with your feminine looks. Wondered how many men already shoved their cock into your hole.”

John saw Paul pale. “Oh” was all he said softly. He looked defeated. “I just saw red, when he said that, baby. Knowing what has happened to you, I just got so angry, I just wanted to beat the living daylights out of him. I didn’t want him to say that about you. You don’t deserve to be insulted like that, I just had to......to protect you, you know, stand up for you......I’m sorry I spoiled your party, baby.”

***

Paul felt all colour leave his face and he suddenly felt nauseous. Was _that_ how people thought about him? A pretty boy that had to be taken in the arse? That _liked_ taking it up the arse? He looked down at his hands, clenched together between his knees. All of a sudden he understood why John had reacted so violently. Ever since he had told John about Mr. Maxwell and what the man had done to him for years, John had become overly protective of him. Of course he would go mad about somebody talking about him like that. “Thanks for standing up for me Johnny, but beating somebody up is not the right way to go about it, you know, no matter how much he deserved it.“

Suddenly John wrapped his arms around him and pressed him close to his chest. “I know, baby, I know. I should have controlled myself, but I just couldn’t. I was so bloody angry! How can somebody say something like that about you? Insulting and denigrating you? You, the man I love! Bloody Bob Wooler! Because of him I didn’t get to give you my present either.”

“Well it’s never too late for a present, Johnny boy” Paul said, sitting up and looking at John expectantly. “It’s too late for your birthday though, and I really wanted to give you this present on the 18th and it’s the 19th now” John sulked. Paul chuckled. “Well, let’s pretend we’re in the States, it’s still the 18th in the USA now.” John raised his eyebrows and then started laughing. “That’s one of the reasons I love you so much, Macca. You can come up with the most ridiculous ideas and still they sound absolutely great!”

He grabbed his jacket, that was haphazardly thrown across the armrest of the couch, and searched inside one of its pockets, digging up a neatly wrapped rectangular present, which he offered to Paul. “Surprise! Happy twenty-first, my love.” Paul smiled broadly. He had wondered if John had forgotten to get him a present. Not that he would have minded, John being there was always a present in itself for him, but still......he liked presents! “What is it then?” “Well, duh.......it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it? Open up and see for yourself!” Paul hastily pulled the wrapping paper off and it revealed a dark blue leather box. “Oh, it’s a box.” John rolled his eyes. “God, Macca, sometimes you’re really dense, aren’t you? There’s something inside of the box. You daft git!”

Paul grinned. “Alright, alright, I’ll open it, don’t get your knickers in a twist, Johnny.” He slowly opened the box, and nestled on a dark blue velvet cushion inside was a silver bracelet. An ID-bracelet. The name Paul clearly written on it in capital letters. “Oh” was all he managed to say and he stared at the piece of jewellery for a few seconds. “A bracelet.” “You don’t like it? Of course you don’t like it! It’s a stupid present, just forget about it, okay?” John sounded very nervous and tried to grab the box away from him, but Paul had a firm hold on it.

“What on earth makes you think I don’t like it? I love it, John! It’s just......it’s just so......personal? Intimate? To give somebody a piece of jewellery, that is.” His ran his index finger over his name on the bracelet and chuckled. “And it always comes in handy if I ever forget my name.” “Oh my God, Paul! You sure know how to ruin a romantic moment!” _“Romantic?_ I thought you once told me you didn’t have a romantic bone in your body!” “You must have heard that wrong, son. Romantic is my middle name when it comes to you.” “I thought it was Winston.” John slapped Paul’s arm. “Paul!” Paul grinned and the kissed John’s cheek. “It’s lovely, Johnny, it really is.”

He took the bracelet out of the box, admiring it, when John told him “It has an inscription on the back as well.” His eyes widened as he looked up to John’s face, then back to the bracelet, then back to John’s face again. John looked......nervous? Why would he look nervous? Paul turned his eyes back to the bracelet again and turned it around. On the other side he saw an inscription that read:

Forever ♥ John

***

John didn’t think he’d ever been so nervous before. And Paul didn’t make things easier either. For a moment he thought Paul wouldn’t accept the bracelet. He’d asked Dusty and Steve about a jeweller he could trust, that day he had told them Paul’s story. “I want to give him something to show him how much I love him, how much he means to me, something personal to tell him I’ll never leave him, no matter what. I was thinking about buying him an ID-bracelet and having it inscribed on the back. But I need a jeweller who won’t.......you know......who I can trust not to tell......if he sees the names of two men......” 

Dusty had wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “I know exactly the place you can go to, John. A very good jeweller, Harold Samuel, on Church Street, a good friend of ours. And he’s one of us.” “You mean he’s queer as well?” Steve shook his head. “John, John! I wish you wouldn’t use the word “queer”, I think it’s insulting. Just say “homosexual” okay? He’s a homosexual man, just like us, and you can definitely trust him not to tell on you. Give him our regards, alright?”

And now here he stood and he had told Paul there was an inscription on the back and Paul had turned the bracelet around to see it and......and he just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him and......Suddenly Paul’s arms were around his neck and that beautiful melodic voice whispered in his ear. “Oh, Johnny.......It’s beautiful! It’s the most beautiful thing anybody has ever given me. Thank you so, so much. This means the world to me!”

***

John let out a breath, that he didn’t know he was holding. He felt so relieved that Paul liked it. He had put his heart out on a platter not knowing if Paul would reject it, but Paul’s words calmed his nerves. “You like it then? I was afraid you would think it was too......too much......too feminine.......or something like that. I didn’t know if you would like to wear a bracelet.” “Ritchie wears an ID-bracelet. Lots of men do. It’s not a feminine piece of jewellery, it’s much more of a masculine thing, isn’t it? And I love the inscription! Thank you so, so much!”

John chuckled at Paul’s happy smile. “You know, I wanted to buy you something else instead of a bracelet at first. I really wanted to buy you a ring.” Paul looked at him with wide eyes, all the colours swirling together. So fuckin’ beautiful! “A ring? You wanted to give me......a ring?” he whispered.

“Yeah, but it would have been hard to explain why you were suddenly wearing a ring. People would surely ask you about it, and, well, it would be difficult......So I couldn’t buy you one. A pity really, I would have gone down on one knee, you know......”

Paul’s smile was so warm and beautiful, it made John’s stomach do a dozen somersaults. So gorgeous! “Well, Johnny, you may not have given me a ring, but that doesn’t mean you can’t go down on one knee, you know.” John raised his eyebrows. “Would you want me to? Would you say yes?” Paul bit his bottom lip. So adorable! “Well, there’s only one way to find out, Johnny.”

John hesitated. Should he go down on one knee? Would Paul make fun of him if he did? Or worse, would he say “No”? He searched Paul’s eyes as if he would be able to find the answer there. What he saw in those glorious eyes did give him an answer. He saw nothing but love in them. Pure, unadulterated love. So slowly he sank down to the floor on one knee, grabbed Paul’s right hand (his left one was still holding the bracelet) and looked up into those eyes again. He suddenly felt overwhelmed by emotions, a lump appearing in his throat, tears welling up in his eyes. Was he really going to do this?

“James Paul McCartney, will you be my one and only, every day of our lives, till the end of time?” He saw tears well up in Paul’s eyes now, as the gorgeous young man smiled at him with eyes filled with love and tenderness and whispered “Yes, John, I will. Will you be mine?” and Paul kneeled in front of him. John was really choking up now, but managed to get the words out. “Yes, I will, darling.”

And there they were, kneeled in front of each other, holding each other’s hand, after promising each other to spend the rest of their lives together, looking so deeply into the other’s eyes it felt like they dissolved in each other. And it was the most amazing feeling ever. They shared a very loving, tender kiss, never breaking eye contact. 

“God I wish I could marry you for real” John sighed. Paul nodded. “Me too. Do you think it will ever be possible?” John cupped Paul’s cheek. “I doubt it, love. I don’t even know if they will ever decriminalize the love we share. It’s so fuckin’ frustrating.” Paul place his own hand over John’s, that was still cupping his cheek. “It doesn’t really matter, though. Being able to get married for real. We have made this promise to each other now, and as long as we both keep it, it’s like being married, isn’t it? A secret marriage that nobody knows about. Our secret. Our marriage. Our life together, Johnny. Until the day we die. Together forever. We can find our way somehow.”

John’s lips found Paul’s again, kissing him tenderly. “Forever, baby. We’ve always found our way and will continue to do so. Forever.” Then Paul suddenly put the bracelet in John’s hand. It startled him. Was Paul returning the bracelet? Didn’t he want it after all? “Put in on my wrist, will you?” Paul held out his arm to John, who smiled relieved. “Okay, love” John closed the bracelet around Paul’s wrist, admiring, not for the first time in his life, Paul’s dainty wrists and hands, so elegant. “I will never take it off, Johnny. I will wear it every day of my life until the day I die.” “Please don’t ever die.......”

***

After they had spent some time holding each other in silence, kneeled on the floor, John suddenly spoke. “Could we move this to the bed, perhaps? My knees are starting to hurt.” His remark caused Paul to burst out in laughter. “God, John, you couldn’t have said a more unromantic thing if you’d tried! And here you had me convinced your middle name was “Romantic”! Well, Johnny boy, it’s definitely “Winston”!” 

John fell asleep cuddled up in Paul’s arms rather quickly. They hadn’t made love, after they got “married”, they had just held each other so close, their naked skin had seemed to melt together. Breathing in each other’s scent, sharing tender kisses, looking in each other’s eyes, not saying a single word. Words weren’t necessary, it was all there in each other’s eyes. Love. 

Paul stayed awake a little longer. A solitary beam of moonlight falling down through a crack in the curtains lighted up John’s face. So soft, so peaceful, so completely at ease. When John was sleeping all his troubles seemed so far away. No need to put up a brave face. So beautiful.

Paul held up his arm and the silver moonlight caught the silver on his wrist. His bracelet. John’s promise to him written on the back. Paul smiled. He felt so happy. And there was something else he felt. Something he hadn’t felt in ages. Probably not since his mum died. He couldn’t even remember if he had felt it before her death. Maybe he had never felt it. He didn’t even realize he wanted it, needed it. But now it was there, he knew how much he’d been craving it. He smiled at the man in his arms. The man that had promised to stay with him forever. The man that gave him this feeling. He felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was rather fluffy, wasn't it? At least you all know now who gave Paul his ID-bracelet ;-)  
> In the next chapter we'll see how the "newly weds" deal with their sudden succes.


	53. THE TASTE OF SUCCES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> In this chapter The Beatles' fame in the UK is rising. It's exciting, but also very exhausting. Luckily they are getting some time off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

The next ten days went by in a blur. The press had gotten hold of John’s assault of Bob Wooler, but Brian had managed to keep the damage to the minimum, with John apologizing to Bob. “That bloody bastard doesn’t deserve an apology, Brian!” John hat muttered after Brian had urged him to apologize to the DJ, to make sure Bob Wooler wouldn’t press charges. He wasn’t going to apologize to somebody who had insulted his lover like that! He absolutely refused to do so! But Paul had convinced him it would be better if he did. And he could never refuse Paul anything. The boy had some kind of spell on him after all. 

They’d played a handful of shows, did some radio and tv appearances and found themselves back in Liverpool for a day off. A day off for _George and Ringo,_ that is. Not so much for _John and Paul,_ who were supposed to write their next single. They had started to write a new song the day before at their hotel room in Newcastle (they did some other “song writing” as well, the kind they used to do in Hamburg), but they had managed to lay down the basics of a song that felt extremely good to them. 

John had wanted to spend their day off at their apartment, finishing their song and making love, but Paul was set on seeing his dad, since he hadn’t been able to spend much time with him at his birthday party. So they showed up at Forthlin Road, guitars on their backs, making their way through dozens of fan girls screaming their names. “What the hell is that all about?” John asked Paul, with an astonished look on his face. “Dad says they’ve been camping outside for weeks now, trying to get a glimpse of me. They actually stay at night as well. It’s bloody ridiculous! And dad is giving them tea and cookies because he feels sorry for them.” John shook his head in disbelieve as they entered the familiar house. But for a brief moment the thought of a young Paul being so badly abused in there, made him shiver. 

***

Jim was happy to see his son and they talked about everything that had happened the past couple of weeks, their radio and tv shows, their gigs all over the country, their number one album, the fans that seemed to go more crazy by the week. Jim was extremely proud of his eldest. The music his son and his friends were making was not exactly to his taste, but the youngsters seemed to like it a lot and Paul’s success made his heart grow warm with pride. Who would have thought his boy would do so well?

He made Paul and John a nice home cooked meal (including John’s favourite mushy peas) and then settled down in his armchair in the small living room, watching television and smoking his pipe, spreading the scent that always made Paul feel so at home, while the two young men went into the tiny dining room to “write their next number one” as Paul had said.

He vaguely heard the boys play their guitars while he concentrated on the television. “Here’s Harry” was on, followed by an episode of “Moonstrike”. After the News he dosed off, but was startled awake by a cheerful cry from Paul. “Dad, have a listen, will you? John and I just finished a song we’d started on yesterday, and I think it would do great as our new single! Come on John, let’s play it!”

Jim watched the two young men with their guitars, ready to play the song they had just written (amazing really, his son could write songs! He had once tried his hand on writing a song, a long, long time ago, but had found it extremely difficult and it never went further than just that one song). He settled a little straighter in his armchair and listened to the boys. They were very good singers, he loved how their voices harmonized and the tune was very catchy indeed, but......”I’m not so sure about the “Yeah Yeah Yeahs”, Paul. There already are so many Americanisms around nowadays. Couldn’t you just sing “Yes Yes Yes”, you know, _proper English?”_

John and Paul doubled up in laughter. “That won’t do, dad, that really won’t do! Trust me, it has to be “Yeah Yeah Yeah”.” Jim looked at his son thoughtfully. The boy was still so young, yet seemed so self assured. “Well, I guess you probably know best, son. But I would prefer “Yes Yes Yes”. It’s a very catchy song though. I really like the way you sing it together as well. So you think it will be a hit?”

“I definitely think so, dad. To me it feels like it’s the best song John and I have written so far. We’ll be going to the EMI studios in a couple of days to record it, but I believe it won’t be released until somewhere in August. And in between we’ll be recording our next album, for which John and I have to write more songs, and do a lot of touring as well. We’ve got some busy times ahead of us.”

“I guess I won’t be seeing much of you then in the months to come. Could you give us a call every now and then to tell me how things are going?” “Of course I will, dad. I’m afraid we’ll have to go now, we’ll have to be in Leeds tomorrow. Let’s go home and get some sleep, John. And give my love to Mike, dad. I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to see him tonight.” Jim hugged his son goodbye, gave a rather awkward hug to John as well and waved both young men goodbye at the door.

He saw them being ambushed by the girls waiting outside, saw them signing autographs for them and shook his head. His son’s world seemed to have been turned upside down immensely the last couple of months. But how long would their success last? If that “Yeah, Yeah, Yeah” song flopped, would it all be over for them? But Paul had seemed so convinced the song would be a hit. He just hoped Paul enjoyed his success for as long as it lasted, since the bubble could burst any minute. But as for now, Jim told himself to believe in his son’s confidence.

***

July, August and the first weeks of September all seemed to melt into one month. Brian had put them on a rather gruesome schedule. They were touring all over the UK, spending every night in another town, another hotel, another concert hall. Sometimes they had no idea of their whereabouts, and going out to see the sights had become difficult. They were recognized everywhere they went. Things were really starting to get crazy. In between their gigs, they travelled in and out of London, recorded radio shows at the BBC and recorded songs for their upcoming second album. The sparse spare time that this schedule left them with, was filled with song writing session for John and Paul, who had to come up with at least a half a dozen of songs for the album.

One night in Wales, Brian had booked them into the honeymoon suite of the local hotel. They doubled up laughing when they had found out about it, and George had carried a struggling Ringo across the threshold. John and Paul had exchanged a knowing look and had disappeared into the biggest room of the suite. It had a very nice bathroom, with a heart-shaped bath, big enough for the both of them. They decided to spend some quality time in the bath, making out.

John had caught a hold of one of Paul’s feet, playing with the long toes. “You really have _beautiful feet,_ you know” he said, causing Paul to raise his eyebrows in surprise. _“Beautiful feet?”_ John kissed the high arched foot, which made Paul giggle. “Yeah, you could have been a ballet dancer, with those high arches.” “Oh, I’m sure you would have _loved_ to see me in those tight ballet leotards. Good thing I didn’t choose a ballet career, you’d be drooling all over me!” John had kept caressing Paul’s feet, massaging them, kissing the toes one by one. Paul sighed contently, softly giggling sometimes. He had never imagined John caressing his feet would feel so extremely sensual.

He grabbed one of John’s hands and started kissing each knuckle tenderly. “And you have _the most beautiful hands_ I’ve ever seen.” “They’re not beautiful, baby, they’re just big and have ugly veins. Yours on the other hand......” John let go of Paul’s foot and grabbed Paul’s hand “......are really beautiful. They’re so _dainty and elegant,_ with those long, slender fingers. I wish mine would look like that.” “Don’t put yourself down like that, Johnny. I love you hands. They’re strong and beautifully shaped. And I _love_ those veins on them. Your hands are just so......so _masculine._ I wish mine were a bit more masculine. And I always move them when I’m talking, it’s so stupid! But the only way I seem to be able to stop them from flying around, is to sit on them.” “I love your dancing hands, sweetie. You won’t be you without your expressive hand movements. Don’t ever try to stop that.”

The sensual and tender time in the bath had to come to an end, because the water was turning cold. After stepping out of the water, they started to dry each other’s bodies with the soft, fluffy towels, which only prolonged the feeling of sensuality that had overcome them both. Paul softly dried John’s hair and kissed his forehead, while John wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist, holding him close. Naked they made their way to the giant four poster bed, whispering sweet nothings, and then John started humming Mendelssohn’s Wedding March, pushing Paul to the soft mattress. “Well baby, since we’re in the honeymoon suite, let’s pretend it actually is our honeymoon!” Paul pulled John on the bed with him. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had today, Johnny!”

***

“She Loves You” had been released mid August, and by mid September, just before they had two weeks off (two whole weeks off! They could hardly remember when they’d had _a single day_ off!) it reached the number one position in the charts. It soon grew to be the first single ever to sell more than 1 million copies. The boys were flabbergasted by their enormous success. “One million, guys, can you believe that one million people bought our single?” George had shouted out in joy, jumping around the hotel room in yet another hotel, in yet another town, when Brian had told them the news. Mal had opened up some bottles of champagne and together with Neil, Brian and the boys had celebrated their success.

“There is a lot of demand for you in Sweden and in Australia. So I’ve booked you on a tour through Sweden next month, and in Australia for next June” Brian told them. He was so proud of his boys. They had become the hottest act in Britain in only a few months, and now there was a demand from abroad. Even America seemed interested, but he wasn’t telling them that yet. Their records didn’t sell well on the other side of the pond, but they _had_ been noticed. “Australia, isn’t that an awfully long flight?” Ringo had asked. “Yes, it is, Richard. Almost as long as it took you to get used to the three of us!” John joked. “I’ve never been so far abroad in my life! It’s the other side of the world! Are you sure they know about us there, Brian?” Paul asked. “Yes, they have, Paul. You’re already quite popular there. But first things first. Go and enjoy your holiday and we’ll see each other again at EMI on the October the third to resume recording your next album.”

***

Brian had rented an apartment for them in London on 57 Green Street. Since they had to come to London so often because of their frequent recordings for the BBC and EMI, it was more comfortable than having to stay in a hotel. The apartment only had three bedrooms, but of course John and Paul didn’t mind sharing one. “We share a bedroom in Liverpool, so we’re used to it.”

They had returned to their apartment the day after the news that “She loves you” hit the one million copies, and spend a nice, peaceful evening together before they would all fly to their different holiday destinations the next day. They had talked about their amazing success, the fans that grew more and more crazy, the heaps of fan mail that were coming in (George’s mother almost had a day job answering George’s fan mail and Jim McCartney had enlisted Mike to answer all the letters, since “it would be very impolite not to answer every letter a fan writes”) and the money they were suddenly making.

But they also talked about their worries. How long would it all last? Would their next album be as successful as “Please please me” which still held the number one spot after many weeks? Or would their bubble burst? And what if the album failed and their next single wouldn’t go to the top, would they still be going to Australia next year?

They had all gone to bed after their pleasant, quiet evening together and after John and Paul had made love (making sure George and Ringo wouldn’t hear them, which was always difficult, with both of them being rather vocal during sex), they both smoked a cigarette before going to sleep. They resumed their conversation about their worries. “Do you think we will be able to keep writing songs that will keep us on top? I mean, I think our songs are the base of our success” John asked Paul, as he blew out the smoke, lying naked next to his lover.

“I don’t really know, Johnny. All I know is that when I’m writing with you, we always seem to come up with a song I feel confident about so far. If we keep doing what we’re doing, it should be alright. For a while at least. Maybe we shouldn’t worry too much. Maybe we should just try to enjoy our success for as long as it lasts. And whatever comes next......well, I don’t really mind, as long as I’ve got you next to me.” Paul pressed a soft kiss to John’s cheek. “I do hope our success will continue for a while longer though, it feels really good to have our work appreciated by so many people.” They finally fell asleep in each other’s arms and enjoyed a good night’s sleep.

***

George had left the next day with his brother Peter to visit his sister Louise, who lived in Illinois in the United States. “Make sure to promote our band to those Yanks, Georgie.” John said upon saying goodbye. “Tell them we’ve got the most gorgeous guy in the world in the band. That being me of course. And the best singer. That being me of course. And the best songwriter......” “That being you of course. I get it Lennon” George answered. “Emphasize on the gorgeous guy bit, will you.” John said, giving Paul a wink.”Because we really _do_ have the most gorgeous guy in the world in the band.”

Ringo had opted to go to Greece, together with his girlfriend Maureen Cox, a lovely hairdresser from good old Liddypool. They had been seeing each other for some time now, having met at The Cavern.

“You better watch out Richie, you know what they say about the Greek and sex!” John had said, when Ringo left. “The Greek and sex? I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, John.” “Anal fucking, son, anal fucking. Men do that all the time over there. They’ve even painted it on their vases and such. So you’d better watch your butt.......eh back while you’re there.” Paul had to bite his bottom lip not to burst out laughing at Ringo’s shocked face. “Just enjoy yourself, Ritchie, and give my love to Mo. See you in two weeks!” Paul said as he waved Ringo off.

John and Paul had opted to spend their two weeks off in Paris, reminiscing. They had such good memories of their first time there, celebrating John’s 21st birthday. It had been their first holiday together as lovers and it had been an amazing experience in an amazing city.

Brian had tried to convince them to go on holiday separately. “You already spend so much time together, it might be good for the both of you to have some time on your own. And it might be better for your image.” Of course John and Paul had insisted on spending their holiday together, the thought of being away from each other for even _one night_ was already a disturbing one, so they most certainly weren’t going to spend _two whole weeks_ apart! But Paul had wondered what Brian had meant by saying that it would be better for their image.

John of course realized what Brian was doing. Since he had confirmed their relationship to their manager, the morning after Paul had told him about Mr. Maxwell, Brian had been kind of trying to get them to spend more time apart, go out separately, to switch hotel rooms with Ringo and George. He was trying to make sure nobody found out about them.

John hadn’t told Paul about the fact that Brian knew about them, and Paul seemed completely oblivious about Brian efforts. Maybe he should have told Paul about it, but at that time they had other things on their minds, and it would probably upset Paul even more than he already had been that day. And in the weeks after John hadn’t been able to find a right time to tell him. Maybe it was for the best Paul didn’t know anyway. The boy was already worried so easily.

Like when Brian had suggested, after trying in vain to get them to holiday separately, that if they _were_ going to Paris together, they should _at least_ book a room at the George V hotel, the best hotel in Paris. “But isn’t that terribly expensive, Brian?” Paul had asked worriedly. “You can afford it, Paul. You’ve earned enough money to afford it.” “How much have we earned?” John had asked, but neither Paul nor Brian were answering him.

“I know that, Brian, but out success could be over before we know it. Wouldn’t it be wiser if we save our money instead of spending it?” “How much?” John had asked again, but both men seemed to ignore him completely. “I have every confidence that your success will continue for a while, Paul. And you’re not spending it all. It’s just a holiday. And why wouldn’t you enjoy staying in an exclusive hotel for once, now you can?” “How much?” John looked from Paul to Brian and back. John never ever looked at his bank accounts, so he really had _no idea_ how much he had earned. But they didn’t seem to hear him at all.

“I don’t know Brian. I know what it’s like having _no_ money. It feels strange spending _so much_ on just a hotel room.” “HOW MUCH?” John shouted out, and Brian and Paul looked at him in surprise. “What are you shouting for, John?” Brian asked him. “We’re sitting right next to you, no need to shout.” “Yeah _sitting_ next to me, but not _hearing_ me! I asked: _how much have we earned?”_

Paul looked at him with an expression of total amazement on his face. “You _don’t know_ how much we’ve earned? Don’t you ever check your bank account?” “No, I don’t Paul, otherwise I wouldn’t ask, would I? So, how much?” Paul looked at him for a few seconds, then shook his head. “I can’t believe you sometimes. Well it’s something like one hundred thousand pounds already.” “Blimey! We’ve earned _one hundred thousand pounds_ between us? We’re rich, filthy rich!” _“Each,_ John, _each.”_ “What do you mean, _each?”_ “We’ve earned _one hundred thousand pounds each.”_ John’s eyes widened at Paul’s statement, and after a few seconds of total silence he shouted _“Let’s book the fuckin’ George V!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So off to Paris they go! But will their holiday be a pleasant one? Stay tuned for the next chapter to find out!


	54. REVISITING PARIS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John and Paul are back in Paris again. Things are very romantic. Until they're not..........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul could hardly believe the luxury that surrounded him. The suite at the George V was the most luxurious place he had ever seen. People actually booked such a splendidly furnished suite just for a _holiday?_ Well, yes they did, obviously, since he was standing in it _right now._ The suite had two immense bedrooms, with thick, soft, carpets, and huge beds, with silk sheets, satin bedcovers and dozens of thick, soft, feathery pillows. There were two huge bathrooms with marble tiles, golden faucets and huge mirrors. And the sitting room situated between the two bedrooms, was ten times larger than the sitting room at Forthlin! It had a couch and armchairs covered in dark blue velvet, a dining table with chairs that looked like they came out of a palace of the Sun King, large vases full of lovely scenting fresh flowers, a television set, a record player, a radio and, wait for it....... _a grand piano!_

Paul had almost immediately gravitated to the instrument. He loved playing piano, but all he had played on so far had been upright pianos. He proceeded to sit on the piano bench and his hands hovered over the ivory keys, almost afraid to touch them. John looked at Paul with fondness. “You can play it, you know, it’s _ours_ for the next two weeks.” Paul looked up from his sitting position to John who was standing in the middle of the room, while the valet that had brought up their luggage (“I can carry my own suitcase”, Paul had muttered, but the man had taken his luggage off his hands anyway), explained John about room service in broken English.

After the man had left, Paul whispered “I can’t believe this. I’ve never seen _such luxury_ in all my life. I’m afraid to move!” John plopped down on the comfy couch and sighed. “God I could get used to this.” Paul’s hands finally dared to touch the keys, and soon he was completely swept away by the beautiful sound his fingers created. John watched him and felt butterflies in his belly. Paul looked so gorgeous, sitting there on that piano. He always looked gorgeous when he was creating music, it always made him shine even more than he usually did.

He stood up from the couch, walked over to the piano and stood behind Paul, placing his hands on the young man’s shoulders, kissed his dark hair and listened to the beautiful melody Paul created. “What’s that you’re playing? I’ve heard you play that before, years ago in the music room at the Inny first, but also later on. Always wondered what song it was. It sounds a bit sad.” “Just something I made up, John, when I was a bit depressed. I like to play the melody whenever I sit on a piano, because it feels like a real _piano_ song, but it’s nothing special.” _”Nothing special_ It’s a _beautiful_ melody, Paul! Do you have any words to go with it?” Paul stopped playing. “No I don’t. Not really. I just have a first line, but somehow I never managed to get more than that. Never really tried either. I mean, it’s not exactly the kind of music the band can play, so why bother with finding lyrics?” “So what’s that first line?” _“The long and winding road.”_

***

They managed to walk around Paris fairly unnoticed, even though their songs had been rather popular in France and they had an ever growing fan base. They visited some of the places they had been to on their first trip, but ate in better restaurants, carefully avoiding the “Andouilettes de Troyes” and the “Escargots” this time around. The wine they drank was far better than last time and both of them had especially grown to like a full, red wine called “Chateau Neuf du Pape” and drank that at almost every diner. It was an expensive wine, but Paul had come to accept that they could afford it.

One night, lying in their soft bed underneath the satin covers, Paul suddenly asked “Do you have any idea why Brian is so keen on us spending time apart? And what was that about it being _better for our image?”_ John, lying complete relaxed in Paul’s warm arms, head resting on his chest, relishing Paul’s fingers drawing circles on his upper arm, responded without thinking. “He just wants to make sure nobody finds out about us. Which is ridiculous of course, since nobody suspects anything. We’re always very careful.”

Paul’s fingers had suddenly stopped their caressing. “What do you mean, _he wants to make sure nobody finds out about us?_ Find out _what?_ John?” John, suddenly realizing his mistake, couldn’t think of anything to say to explain and Paul pushed him away from his cosy position on the boy’s chest, looking him in the eyes questioning. “John? Find out _what,_ John? _John?_ Does Brian _know_ about us? Did you _tell_ Brian about us?” “No, no, I.......I didn’t tell.......he......he already knew......I just _confirmed.......”_ John stuttered. “What? You’re telling me Brian _knows?_ And you _know_ he knows? And you didn’t bother to tell _me?_ He _knows_ and you _confirmed_ it? When did that happen? How long has he known?”

“It was the morning after......after you told me what had happened to you. He......he thought we had a lover’s quarrel, so I realized he knew about us. He apparently has known almost from the start. Recognised the signs because he’s queer himself, he said.” “Why haven’t you told _me,_ John? I thought we’d agreed on not having secrets for each other, and then you keep _this_ from me? Oh my God, you didn’t tell him......you didn’t tell him about what happened......” “No, no! I haven’t told him anything about that, baby. It just......it wasn’t.......I couldn’t.......You had just told me what had been done to you, and I was.......upset, and you were upset, I just _couldn’t_ tell you then.” “You could have told me later, John! _No more secrets,_ remember!” “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry, I should have told you, I’m so sorry. But I haven’t told Brian about the things Mr. Maxwell did to you.”

Paul was clearly upset John had not told him something that obviously was important, and he suddenly realized he kept more secrets from Paul even though they had promised to tell each other everything from now on. “I did tell Dusty and Steve about it though......”

***

Paul couldn’t believe his ears. Did John just say he had told Dusty and Steve about......No that couldn’t be true. John had _promised_ not to tell anybody about it. Ever. _He promised!_ He got out of the bed, pushing John aside roughly. “You didn’t! You promised me! You wouldn’t tell _anybody! You promised!_ And then you went and told Dusty and Steve? How _could_ you? You _betrayed_ me! How _could_ you?” He felt his eyes fill with angry tears. He had told John his story in confidence and he had trusted John not to tell anybody about it. And now there were more people who knew. Knew how _filthy_ he was. The shame washed over him like a giant wave and he felt nauseous. He felt himself drown in a pool of shame, unbelief, betrayal and anger. _So much anger._ He felt like _hitting_ John, he was _so angry_ with him right now! He had to get out of here. _Now._

He ran out of the bedroom, picking up his clothes that lay discarded on the floor, on his way out. _Out!_ He wanted out! Away from John. Away from the anger, the shame, the pain......Away from _John._ The tears that had filled his eyes, now spilled over and ran down his cheeks. He didn’t want anybody to know! He couldn’t live with the shame......

“Paul! Don’t run away! Please stay! Don’t go, please, _please!”_ He heard John cry out after him. But he couldn’t be bothered. John had betrayed him. How could he _ever_ trust him again after this? He was struggling to get his clothes on, when John grabbed his arm. “Please Paul, don’t go! Let me explain please! “There’s _nothing_ to explain, John. You betrayed my trust. I explicitly asked you, _begged you,_ not to tell anybody, and you did so anyway. _Nothing_ you can say, can justify what you did. I don’t think I will _ever_ be able to trust you again. And without _trust,_ how can we have a _relationship?”_ He pushed John away, picked up his shoes and headed for the door. Away from John.

“Paul, please.......I didn’t _mean_ to betray you. It’s just so _difficult._ It just hurts so much. Too much. I didn’t know how to deal with the knowledge what happened to you. I felt so guilty and in so much pain, and I wanted to be _strong_ for you, but I was so upset. I _really_ needed someone to talk to, I was going _crazy!_ Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that bastard raping you, hurting you. And I didn’t do a thing to stop it. I _had_ to talk to somebody, I just had to. I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have, I’m so sorry. Please don’t go......please don’t say it’s over between us........I love you! _Please.......”_

Paul, who had been standing by the door, turned around to face John. What he saw almost broke his heart. John looked so forlorn, so desperate, in so much _pain......_ He didn’t want John to feel this way, but he was so angry! “I have to get away from you now, John. I have to sort out my feelings. I’m afraid that if I stay, I’ll say or do something I’ll regret, I’m just _so angry_ with you right now.” “Can’t you just stay here to sort out your feelings? You can stay in the other bedroom. I don’t want you to go out alone when you’re so upset......”John pleaded with him. And suddenly it occurred to Paul what John was afraid of. “Don’t worry, John, I’m not going to top myself, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just need some fresh air to clear my head, okay? To calm down. I need that right now, okay? Why don’t you go back to bed and try to get some sleep? I......I have to go now, okay?”

He turned around and walked out of their suite quickly, before John’s sad eyes would make him stay, before his basically kind heart would tell him not to hurt John like this. John had betrayed him and it hurt like hell! He had to find out what he felt about that, how it would affect their relationship. He shouldn’t push his own feelings of hurt away and store them in one of those compartments in his mind that already were so overcrowded with so much pain. It might be better to address those feelings and try to deal with them, even though walking away right now caused John pain. John had caused _him_ pain after all! But when he left the hotel and took to the dark Parisian streets, he felt tears running down his face. Tears of pain, tears of anger, tears for John, but mostly tears for himself. Why couldn’t things go right for him for a change? Why was there always something going wrong in his life? He felt so betrayed. Would this be the end of his relationship with John?

***

John stood in the middle of the room, staring at the door through which Paul had disappeared, like if he stared at it long enough, the young man would suddenly materialize. He was crying softly. Had he ruined his relationship with Paul? He had known Paul didn’t want anybody to know about the sexual abuse, and he had told Dusty and Steve anyway. _He had betrayed Paul._ But he didn’t have a choice, did he? He had been in so much pain after hearing Paul’s horrific story, he hadn’t been able to deal with his feelings. Why did he have to tell Paul about him telling Dusty and Steve? Why didn’t he keep his big mouth shut?

But Paul had _wanted_ him to be honest! He was angry about John not telling him about Brian’s knowledge about them. Told him they shouldn’t keep secrets from each other. So John had decided to be honest about Dusty and Steve. And now Paul was _angry_ at him because he had been _honest?_ What exactly did Paul want of him? Did he want him to be honest or not? Maybe he should get his priorities straight!

John felt anger creep up inside of him. Damned! This was all Paul’s fault! Paul had tricked him into telling things he shouldn’t have told him, by catching him off guard! He shouldn’t have told Paul _anything._ What the boy didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him. He should have kept his secrets!

John returned to the bedroom and crawled under the covers. All of a sudden the softness of the sheets and pillows seemed to have disappeared. The bedcovers felt rough. The bed was cold. And empty. He pressed his nose to Paul’s pillow. His scent still lingered there a little bit. That familiar scent that always made John relax. But it didn’t make him feel relaxed this time. He was scared. Would Paul be back? Or would he leave him? His tears started running again and soon desperate sobs were shaking his body. Would this be the end of their life together? Of course it would. Everybody eventually left him, didn’t they? Paul didn’t return to their room and after lying away for a long time, he finally cried himself to sleep.

***

Paul wandered through the streets of Paris, feeling lost and confused. His anger had slowly disappeared, and was replaced by sadness. He couldn’t understand why John had betrayed his trust. After Paul’s confession about being sexually abused, they had promised to tell each other everything. No more secrets. Yet John had kept the fact Brian knew about them a secret. And he hadn’t told him that he told Dusty and Steve about Mr. Maxwell’s abuse. He kept _that_ a secret as well. And he shouldn’t have told them in the first place, because he _had promised_ Paul not to tell anybody.

But could he really blame John for wanting to tell somebody? For needing to share Paul’s story? John had been very upset and he had felt guilty, although Paul had told him there was no need to feel guilty. What would Paul have done if the roles would have been reversed? If _John_ would have told _him_ he had been sexually abused for years? Wouldn’t _he himself_ have been upset and in emotional pain, knowing his lover had lived through such horrors? Wouldn’t _he_ feel the need to talk to somebody about it? To share the pain with? It must be so painful to know the person you loved more than anything in the world had been a victim of abuse. Paul didn’t know how _he_ would be able to live with that knowledge without somebody to talk to, if the roles were reversed.

But even though John had promised not to tell anybody, he _should have told him_ he had broken his promise, and explain why he did it. Paul would have understood. John shouldn’t have kept it a secret. Just like he shouldn’t have kept it a secret that Brian knew about them. They had promised each other not to keep secrets from each other. That honesty was what they _needed_ from each other to make their relationship work. And John had broken that promise too.

But was _he himself_ always honest _with John?_ Didn’t _he_ keep secrets from _Johb_ as well? After all he never told John he had tried to commit suicide when they were apart and that Dusty had prevented him from doing so, that night when he had decided to jump in to the river. Into that cold, dark, inviting water of the Mersey. Which had looked so similar to the cold, dark and inviting water of the Seine he was looking at right now. _His feet had taken him to a river again._ He suddenly wondered what it would be like, jumping into that water. Would you just let yourself sink without trying to stay afloat? What would it be like to drown? He gave himself a mental shake. What on earth was he thinking? He _never_ wanted to find out what drowning would be like! _He didn’t want to kill himself anymore!_ He had too much to live for!

So, let’s think about _honesty._ He kept secrets from John. Yes he had told him about Mr. Maxwell and the sexual abuse. But he hadn’t told him _everything,_ had he? He had left out some gruesome details. Details he _never_ wanted to share with anybody, _not even John._ So was it fair of him to expect _John_ to be honest with _him,_ if _he_ wasn’t honest with _John?_

Suddenly he saw John’s eyes again just before he left the hotel. So full of pain, despair and fear. Fear that Paul would leave him, would abandon him, would try to kill himself. He had hurt John by implying their relationship was over. How could he have done that? How could he have hurt the man he loved so much? What kind of boyfriend was he anyway? The kind that only thought about _himself,_ not considering _his lovers’ feelings?_ The kind of man that thought his _own_ hurt feelings were more important than the feelings of his other half? _His better half?_ He hoped he was a better man than that, but that was exactely what he had done nevertheless.

He felt the overpowering urge to be with John right now, so he turned on his heels and practically ran the whole way back to the George V hotel, longing to hold John in his arms, apologize to him and reassure him. Because he knew that John _needed_ to be reassured. Reassured that Paul wouldn’t leave him, would _never leave_ him. He would store away his hurt feelings in one of the compartments in his brain, lock the door and throw away the key. They were petty feelings and he shouldn’t allow them to trouble his vision of what was really important: _John._ John’s feelings, John’s fear of abandonment, John’s wellbeing. He should focus on that. He _would_ focus on that.

He opened the door to their suite and walked straight over to the bedroom. John was asleep on the giant bed, with the bedside lamb still on, lying in a foetal position, the tracks of his tears clearly visible on his cheeks, a pained frown on his beautiful features. _“Oh Johnny......."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will their relationship be damaged forever by the lack of honesty? Or are they mature enough to talk about it and patch things up? Mature? John and Paul?


	55. SWEDEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John and Paul enjoy the rest of their stay in Paris. Back in England "Beatlemania" really takes off and then they start their first tour abroad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> his is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John had cried in Paul’s arms, relieved he had come back alive, reassured by Paul’s promise to never leave him, grateful for Paul’s apologies. “I’m sorry, John, I really overreacted. I’m so sorry. I was just shocked that Brian knew and was hurt that you went behind my back to tell Dusty and Steve about what happened to me. But after I got some time to think about it, I now _understand_ why you did it. I shouldn’t have run out like that, should have realized how worried you would be. I’m really sorry, Johnny.”

“I’m sorry too, baby. I knew I was breaking my promise to you by telling Dusty and Steve and did it anyway. But I didn’t do it to _hurt_ you. I _never_ meant to hurt you. And I’m sorry for keeping secrets from you. You were so right when you said we have to be able to trust each other to have a meaningful relationship. So there’s something else I need to tell you. Better to come clear completely now, right? Promise me you won’t get angry and run out again?”

“Oh my God, John! There’s _more? More secrets_ I don’t know about? What is it this time? You have a wife and child back in Hamburg or something like that?”John chuckled. “Nothing like that, baby, I promise you. It’s about your suicide attempt.” _“My suicide attempt?_ What about that? You know I don’t like to think about that again.” “I know, love, I know. But I think you should know that I know that the time when you left the Cavern to go to the docks, that wasn’t your _first_ attempt. Steve told me that you had tried to kill yourself when I was in Hamburg. That Dusty had saved you. And _I_ have told _them_ about your _second attempt._ Sorry.......”

“God, I made them promise not to tell anybody about that! I trusted them! Does _everybody_ betray my trust?” “They were worried about you, baby. That my intentions with you weren’t serious and that I would hurt you. Afraid that you would try again......And I was so shocked when you _did_ try again......I _had_ to talk about it. I _need_ to talk about my fears with somebody to be able lead my life, baby, otherwise I’d go crazy. But I never meant to hurt you by betraying your trust, love, and neither did Dusty and Steve. It’s because we _love_ you all so much.......”

“I think I can _understand_ somehow, but it still hurts to know that people you care about break their promises to you.” Paul looked down at his hands and bit his bottom lip. “What......what did they say when you told them? Dusty and Steve? About.......about Mr. Maxwell?”

“They were so shocked, baby, just like me. And Dusty felt so _guilty,_ because he had known you for most of those years you were abused, and he hadn’t seen it. He felt so guilty for not realizing something was wrong and for not helping you, just like me. He completely broke down and cried when I’d told them your story. And Steve was so _angry,_ he said he wanted to rip the bastard’s head off his body. I told him to stand in line, since I would do it first. After I had cut his balls off, that is.”

“Dusty shouldn’t feel guilty, and neither should you, Johnny. I did _everything_ in my power to prevent people from finding out, and if they would have asked, I would have lied about it. I _did_ lie about it. Whenever you or dad, or Dusty or anybody else asked me what was wrong, I lied. I was so ashamed. I still am so ashamed.......”

“You shouldn’t feel like that, sweetheart, what that man did to you was so wrong. You were a child, he was an adult. You were a victim, you did nothing wrong. And I will make sure nobody will ever hurt you again. I will rip their head off if they’ll do. If Steve doesn’t beat me to it, that is.”

***

The rest of their time in Paris had been very pleasant. After making up and apologizing to each other, they were back to being completely taken by each other. Even though Paul had this nagging feeling. _John_ had been honest with _him,_ but _he_ still kept secrets from _John._ He knew that in a way it wasn’t right to do so. But John had already been so hurt by Paul’s story, what was the use of telling John things that would only upset him more? So Paul had chosen to keep his secrets locked away. It was better that way.

Standing on top of the Eifel Tower, John had put his arms around Paul’s waist from behind, holding him close while they admired the view (“Will you actually look at the city instead of me this time, John?”) and Paul had relished the closeness for a few moments before he suddenly came to his senses. “Stop it John! We can’t do this in public! What if somebody recognizes us?” “Well, love, if somebody recognizes us up here, on top of the Eifel Tower, we at least know we’ve made it to the top!” “God, John, that’s a really bad joke!”

They had wanted to dance in front of the opera house again, like they did last time, but some young Parisians recognized them and soon a small crowd surrounded them, telling them in broken English how much they loved their music and asking for autographs. So no dancing this time. And when they visited the Notre Dame again (“I want to burn a candle for my mum, Johnny.” “Ah you’re such a good Catholic boy, aren’t you, Paul.” “Shut it, John!”), they were recognized again, by some young priest, much to their surprise. “Seems our fame has already reached a heavenly level, Macca.”

The rest of their time flew by. They made good use of their huge bed (“We should have one of those at home, Macca.” “Good idea, after we removed all of our other furniture, it might just fit.”) and spend a lot of time in the large marble bath (“I wish we could have of one those at our apartment, Johnny.” “Well, maybe if we place it upright......but then we wouldn’t be able to sit in it anymore. So we might just as well keep the shower.”).

They did some sightseeing, visiting places they had missed last time, and even took a cab to see the palace of Versailles. It took them about an hour to get there, but they decided it had been worth it. “I’ve never seen such splendour and luxury before, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. I can’t imagine living in such surroundings and calling it your home. I don’t think I would feel comfortable though. And it’s so huge! Just think you’re in one of those sitting rooms and you want a bite to eat. You’ll have to walk for ages to get to the kitchen. That is, if you don’t get lost on your way to find it.” “Well, baby, if we’re ever rich enough to buy a home like this, I’ll make sure to put up signs, so you can find your way to the kitchen! But seriously, love, I don’t think the Sun King went to the kitchen himself. He had staff that did that for him.” “The Sun King. Imagine being called that. You should write a song about him one day.”

***

The day after their return from Paris, they were due in London to record their second album at the EMI studios. After chatting with George and Ringo about their holidays (“Nobody recognized me in Greece. I could walk around without being hassled by fans. It was great!” “Well, in the States nobody has heard of The Beatles either. Louise and I did go to a radio studio and asked them to play “She Loves You” which they did. So if we make it there, it’s all because of me”), they tuned their instruments. “Gentlemen” George Martin addressed them form the control room “What about starting off with “I wanna be your man”? Ringo are you up to do some singing?”

***

Ten days later, things exploded. Although The Beatles’ popularity had been growing steadily throughout the year and the adoration of their fans seemed to grow to ever frantic heights, their appearance at the London Palladium on 13 October seemed to have catched the attention of the mainstream media. They described the scenes of their screaming fans with a single word that would follow them in the years to come: “Beatlemania”. The show was an important one, since it had something like 15 million viewers, so Paul had insisted they’d rehearse well before the show, causing the other three to chuckle that if they didn’t know their repertoire by now, they would _never_ learn it. But Brian agreed with Paul, this was a very important show, so they did spend quite some time rehearsing the songs they were going to perform.

Next day, they found themselves on the ITN News, and on the front pages of all major newspapers! The boys didn’t know what hit them! Sitting in the living room at Green Street, reading the front-page articles about “Beatlemania” and going through their schedule for the rest of the month (some concerts, a radio appearance, two television shows, some studio time, working on their upcoming album and their Swedish tour) John muttered “Fuckin’ hell guys! It looks like we’ve actually reached the Toppermost of the Poppermost! I can’t believe this is happening. We’ve only released our first single a year ago and look at us now! We’re all over the newspapers!”

That night, lying in each other’s arms in their shared London bedroom, after they had made love quietly (difficult, since both of them liked to express themselves vocally during sex; they _were_ singers after all, but they couldn’t risk George and Ringo hearing them) Paul asked John worriedly “Do you think our success will last Johnny? What if our next album fails? Or our next single won’t make it to the top? Could it be over just as fast as it started?”

John hugged Paul closer and kissed his hair. Coconut. His hair always smelled of coconut. John loved coconut. He loved Paul. “I don’t know, love. I think the song we’ve written to be our next single is really great, we’ve done a good job there. But you never know, do you? It could be over any time. Let’s just enjoy it for as long as it lasts and when it’s over……well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. No need to worry your pretty little head over it. As long as we’ve got each other, everything will be alright. We’ll just go back to playing in small clubs and do some “song writing” if you catch my drift.”

***

So off to Sweden it was. “Well lads, our first tour outside the UK. Too bad Brian has chosen such a _cold_ country to tour. Would have preferred somewhere warm, like Spain or Greece. But we’re going to warm those Swedish boys and girls up, won’t we? Bring our own heat wave to that cold place.” The boys were waiting to board their flight to Stockholm, together with Brian, Mal and Neil, as John addressed them all with a grin on his face. “It’s not _that_ cold over there, John. Just a tad colder than in Liverpool, around 10 degrees Celsius. We’re only touring in the southern part of the country, you know. We don’t go up north, to Lapland, where it can be _really cold_ already this time of year.” They all turned to Paul, flabbergasted. “How do you know all that?” Ringo asked. “Did you secretly get a degree in meteorology?” Paul shrugged. “Looked it up in my dad’s encyclopedia.”

“Why _on earth_ would somebody look something like that up?” John wondered out loud. “Because I like to know where I’m going to. Did you guys know Swedish and Danish are very much alike?” “Oh I love Danish pastry! Good to know they have that in Sweden too.” George replied happily. Paul looked at him with a look of astonishment. “Don’t you ever _not_ think about food, Geo? I’m not talking about _pastry,_ I’m talking about the _language.”_ John shook his head in disbelieve. “Why on earth would we need _that_ information, Paul? We don’t speak _either_ language.” Paul shrugged again. “It said so in the encyclopedia and I thought it was nice to know. Did you guys know…….” “No!!!!” John, George and Ringo all called out at the same time, causing Paul to look offended and Neil and Mal to double up in laughter.

Brian smiled at the playful banter of his boys. “I think it’s very wise of Paul to read up about the places we visit. People always like it when you show a bit of knowledge about their country. Maybe you all should learn some Swedish words.” “I already looked up _Hello_ and _Goodbye._ It’s _Hallå_ and _Adjö.”_ Paul answered. “And I can teach you guys to say it.” _”Paul!!!”_ “What!?”

“Time to board, boys. Don’t forget your hand luggage.” Brian interrupted. “Yeah, Paul, time to end our Swedish lessons. You really _should_ have become a teacher, son. A misssed opportunity that is.” John patted Paul’s shoulder. “But I’m sure those Swedish people will understand _Hello_ and _Goodbye_ just as well.” Paul frowned. “But it’s always handy if you know a few words. I mean, remember how we didn’t know what “Escargots” meant when we were in Paris? If we had known that word we wouldn’t have ended up with _snails_ on our plate!” John nodded. “True, so true. So I suspect you know what snails are in _Swedish?_ So we don’t end up with snails for our lunch?” “Making fun of me, are you John? But just for your information, they do not eat snails in Sweden, but _smoked salmon._ And that’s called _Graved Lachs._ Just so you know.”

***

As it turned out, Beatlemania had already hit Sweden. When they tried to do some sightseeing in Stockholm, they were besieged by hundreds of fans. The press conference was rather hectic and the audience at the studio in Stockholm, where they taped a radio show, went wild. Next day they travelled the 300 km to Karlstad by car for two shows. And the day after, they had to travel back to Stockholm for three shows. The next city on their tour was Gothenburg, which they reached traveling for 500 km in a single car together. They were pretty exhausted when they arrived there to play three shows.

They were relieved their next stop was only 60 km further. In Borås they only had to play one show, and they spent some time signing records in a shop. Thousands of fans turned up. They tried to sign as many records as possible, but they had to disappoint lots of fans. Paul was a bit upset when he saw some girls cry because they didn’t get to meet them. He asked Brian if they could stay a little longer so more fans would get the chance to meet them, but their schedule was tight, and John complained his hand was already aching from signing so many autographs.

After another show in the town of Eskilstuna and a television appearance in Stockholm, their first foreign tour came to an end. Their 10 days stay in Sweden had been a rollercoaster ride. They discussed their experience on their flight back. “It’s so weird that we’re so popular in another country. I can hardly believe last week really happened.” Paul said to John who was sitting next to him, holding a newspaper he wasn’t really reading. “I know, it’s crazy. But I’m really exhausted as well. Brian shouldn’t let us travel those long distances by car. Maybe you can talk to him about that?” “Me? Why should _I_ talk to him then?” “Because you’re so much more tactful and diplomatic. I’d probably say something to offend him.”

“Hey guys, look at that! Why are there so many people at the airport?” George pointed out of the window as they approached the landing strip. They all looked out of the windows to see what George was talking about. “Maybe the Queen is arriving at the same time as us?” Ringo replied. But they soon found out that wasn’t the case……..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter the band returns to the UK after their Swedish tour, only to find themselves shipped off to another country for more shows.


	56. BIG NEWS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Their return from Sweden leaves them flabbergasted. The boys meet Royalty and family, and discover the difference between British and French audiences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“I don’t think they’re waiting to see the Queen, lads.” Neil pointed at the crowd gathered at the airport. “They wouldn’t be holding up signs saying “Welcome back boys” or “Paul” or “We love The Beatles” if they would be waiting for the Queen.” The boys looked at each other in disbelieve. “Well I’ll be damned! They’re here to see us? _So many of them?_ What on earth for?” Ringo spoke out loud what all of them were thinking.

John felt Paul’s hand touching his shoulder, softly squeezing it. “God, there are so many of them. I can’t believe this is real. Are they really there to welcome us back? It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it? A bit…… _scary.”_ he heard Paul’s voice whisper in his ear. He turned his head to face Paul, seeing the amazement, but also a touch of fear in those beautiful eyes. It made his heart flutter and for a short moment he placed his hand over Paul’s that was still squeezing his shoulder. He wanted to reassure Paul. Tell him not to feel scared. That he was there to protect him. He tried to transfer those thoughts to Paul by looking into his eyes intently, and for a short moment, he felt he could see right into Paul’s soul. For a short moment their minds became one. The world around them ceased to exist. He knew Paul had understood and they smiled at each other. Whatever was waiting for them, they would face it together.

***

The next day they started their Autumn tour through the UK, that would continue until mid December. For the first time they were the headliners of a tour that included five other acts. And the audience went wild. The Daily Mirror had photos of hysterical girls and headlined “Beatlemania! It’s happening everywhere!”

Lying in their hotel room after the first two nights, John and Paul talked about what was happening to them. “I think we’ve really made it, baby. We’ve reached the top, like we always wanted.” John was stroking Paul’s taut belly as his head laid on the boy’s chest. Paul hummed in agreement. “Can you imagine, we’re going to play at the Royal Variety Show in two days time? That we’ve been asked to perform for Royalty? Dad was so proud when I told him that.” John chuckled. “You’re such a bloody Royalist! What’s so special about performing for a bunch of rich people who think they are something special” “John! It’s the Royal Family! The Queen Mother will be there and Princess Margaret. She’s gorgeous, you know.”

“Well, I don’t believe in Monarchy, Paul. I don’t think somebody should feel entitled to reign a country, just because of the family they were born in to. I’m a true republican.” Paul sighed deeply. “I know, I know, we’ll never see eye to eye on this one. And I guess you’re entitled to your opinion, even though I don’t agree with it. Just as long as you don’t mention your republican believes in public, John.” John kissed Paul’s chest. “Can I make a joke about it? Like telling the people in the Royal Box to rattle their jewellery?” “No John! You can’t address the Royal Family like that! You can’t offend them like that! Please, please, _please_ refrain from saying anything to them. Please? For me?”

***

So of course John listened to Paul. Sort of anyway. Just somewhat. A little bit. A tiny little bit. He didn’t ask the people in the _Royal Box_ to rattle their jewelry. “For our last number we’d like to ask your help. The people in the _cheaper seats_ clap your hands. And _the rest of you,_ if you’d just rattle your jewellery” he said before starting “Twist and Shout”. Paul, who already was a nervous wreck to start with, just by seeing the Queen Mother and Princess Margaret in the audience, wished the ground would open up and swallow him. But he had to sing the backing vocals to the bloody song, sharing a mic with George, so he soldiered on. _Damned John!_ Well, at least he didn’t address the Royal Family directly, but still…….

He lectured John about it that night when they were getting ready for bed in their hotel room. “You promised, John! You promised you wouldn’t offend the Royal Family, and you went ahead and did so anyway. I thought I was going to die upon that stage.” John was unbuttoning his shirt and chuckled. “I didn’t actually offend them, you know. Never mentioned their names. Just offended _all of them rich people_ in the audience.”

Paul sighed. “Yeah, but everybody knows it was directed at the Royal Family, John. I was so embarrassed when we were introduced to them after the show, I hardly knew what to answer when the Queen Mother asked me where we were playing tomorrow night.” “What did you answer then?” “I told her we were playing in Slough next, and she said “Oh that’s just near us” before she went on to shake George’s hand.” John slipped out of his shirt, and stood in the room wearing just his briefs and his socks. “Well, I don’t see what the problem is. We _are_ playing in Slough tomorrow, so you gave the right answer. You were right about Princess Margaret, though. She’s a real looker. If I didn’t already have _the most beautiful man in the whole world,_ I would know what to do……”

“Oh John, for heaven’s sake! She’s a married woman!” “So? Have you seen that husband of hers?” “Lord Snowdon, you mean?” “Yeah, whatever his name is. I’m surprised they managed to get a child together, as I’m _pretty sure_ he’s one of us, or at least likes it both ways.” Paul stepped out of his trousers and stood in the room in just his briefs, socks already removed, since he usually took them off first. He liked walking barefoot. “What do you mean by that?” John snorted. “Oh come on Paul! You can’t be _that_ oblivious! The man so obviously has the hots for you! He looked at you like you were the best thing since sliced bread! If he had stared at you any longer, I would have smashed his bloody head! The audacity, looking at you like that, when you’re so obviously _mine.”_

“Well John. I hope I’m _not so obviously yours,_ because that would cause a lot of trouble. I don’t even wanna _think_ about the consequences if people would find out I’m yours! And as for Lord Snowdon, I think you’re just seeing things that are not really there. You always tend to believe that everybody’s trying to come on to me. Remember that time you smashed a guy’s face in Hamburg? God, just thinking about the headlines “John Lennon beats up Lord Snowdon” makes my stomach turn.”

***

After finishing their tour, Brian had them booked in London for 30 “Beatles’ Christmas Shows”. In between performances of several other artists, The Beatles took to the stage for some light-hearted sketches. They had a lot of fun doing it, although they were very bad at it, not having rehearsed much. The sketches turned out to be organized chaos, and the fans greeted them with hysteria. They ended the shows playing their usual set list.

They had the day off on Christmas Day and flew back to Liverpool in the early morning to visit their respective families. John and Paul had debated what they would do. Would they go visiting Mimi and Jim separately? That didn’t appeal much to them, since that would mean they would have to spend the day away from each other. Would they visit only one of them? That wouldn’t go down well with either Mimi or Jim, since they both expected to see them on Christmas Day and would be terribly disappointed if they didn’t show up. After all, because of their busy schedule, they hardly saw each other anymore nowadays. So they decided to visit Mimi together for lunch and Paul’s dad for dinner.

Mimi had prepared a lovely lunch and although she did make the occasional biting remark (“Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet, John? I know you and Paul are friends, but isn’t it time you both find a place of your own to live in? And why don’t you have a girlfriend yet, Paul? You’re a very handsome young man, at least you don’t have that big Lennon nose, like John has. It’s all from his father’s side of the family, you know. We Stanleys don’t have such big noses. I’m sure your father would love to become a grandfather, so don’t you think it’s time to get settled? I would like to become a grandmother, John, before I’m really old.”), so actually quite a lot of biting remarks, in the end their visit was a pleasant one overall.

Mimi had even praised them about their success. Sort of. “The women of the church committee tell me all their daughters love your music and have posters of the band above their beds. I think it’s quite embarrassing to know that they have posters of my nephew in their bedrooms, but then again you had posters in your bedroom, John, although I never liked them. It’s just a young people thing, I guess. And their sons have started to wear their hair just like you do. Personally I think it’s way too long for men, but I guess it’s modern. They also tell me how successful you are and that you probably earn a lot of money. Now that’s a good thing. Too bad you don’t earn your money in a more decent way, but at least you have some kind of paying job.”

John and Paul had exchanged some exasperated looks, and John had tried to defend himself (“You wouldn’t be a grandmother, Mimi, but a great-aunt and you’re not that old yet” and “There’s nothing indecent about making money from music”) but he could hardly get a word in and felt himself get more agitated with every word Mimi said. Paul, sensing his lover’s mood spiraling downwards, tried to change the topic by complimenting Mimi on the lovely lunch. “It’s so good to have a home cooked meal, Mrs. Smith. Eating at pubs, inns and hotels is fun for a while, but you do start missing some good traditional home cooked meals, you know. Did you know we performed for the Royal Family?”

Now that was something Mimi was proud about. Sort of. “I was very proud that you’ve got to meet the Queen Mother. She is such a lovely Lady. I wish I could have met her. I’m not so fond of Princess Margaret though. Too many scandals surround her. I don’t really like that husband of hers either. I saw a photo in the newspaper of you boys in nice suits and bow ties. You finally looked well for a change. I do hope they weren’t offended by your long hair. You could have gotten a haircut before meeting Royalty.”

***

The evening at the McCartney house was a lot more pleasant. At first at least. They had a lovely dinner and talked and joked with Jim and Mike. Paul’s dad was unbelievably proud of his son’s success and involved John in the praise as well. But then he started asking about possible girlfriends, and John’s mood was turning sour again, but Paul rubbing his thigh under the table made him calm down and he decided to just ignore the question.

After dinner however, the entire McCartney clan arrived (John always thought there were hundreds of them, from old wrinkly men, with bold heads and glasses, to fat elderly women in the most hideous dresses, who used too much perfume, to teenagers who wanted to know all about their success, but at the same time kept reminding Paul he was just their cousin, so he shouldn’t grow bigheaded, to wailing children, that ran around everywhere, making a lot of noise) and Jim and Paul led them all in a sing-along.

John hated sing-alongs. Specially the ones of the McCartney clan when they were all a bit inebriated, and all of Paul’s aunties wanted to dance with him. He tried to communicate with Paul by eye contact, hoping to make him understand he wanted to go home now, but somehow the communication line between them had broken down or something, because Paul didn’t seem to receive John’s signals. Instead Paul started another one of those old standards they all sang along with in loud voices. The boy was enjoying himself immensely, and for a moment John wondered how he could be in love with someone that was so totally different than him.

But then he saw the joy on Paul’s face, those beautiful eyes twinkling, a bright smile on his face as his long, elegant fingers touched the ivory keys of old Jim’s piano and his melodic voice happily crooned out another one of those old standards, and John remembered exactly why he was in love with him. That didn’t mean he enjoyed the sing –along though. He still wanted to go home and managed to push himself through the hurdle of McCartneys and reach Paul at the piano. “This is fun isn’t it John?” Paul beamed at him. “Yeah, lots of fun, Macca, but it’s time to go home.” “Go home? It’s still early. Why should we go home?” Paul kept on playing and the clan kept on singing. “We have to get up early tomorrow to take a flight back to London. To resume our Christmas Show, remember? So come on let’s go home.”

Paul looked at him, surprise written all over his face. “Since when did you become such a dutiful, good boy then? You usually want to go on all night, not thinking about our responsibilities at all. And now you want to go home? I’m having fun here, John.” “Well, maybe I am not.” John’s said curtly and it suddenly dawned on Paul that John was not enjoying himself. He sighed. Of course he knew John didn’t really like to be surrounded by so many members of the McCartney family. He never really got the attraction of a family sing-along, never having had one of those in his family. “Okay, we’ll go home then. Let me just say goodbye to everyone and we’ll be off.”

***

They finished their run of Christmas shows on 11 January. “Too bad I’m not going to see you wearing those suspenders and cap again, Macca. Together with those rolled up sleeved, they make you look very sexy.” “I could ask if I can take the costume home, so I can wear it every now and then when were home alone, Johnny.” Paul answered with a mischievous grin, “And you can ask if you can take the top hat, but please leave that horrible moustache off! Just the top hat and nothing else. That will do just fine by me, if you catch my drift.” He had wiggled his eyebrows, causing John to double up in laughter.

Just a few days later they found themselves in Paris for an 18 day run in the Olympia theatre starting on 16 January, playing two or three shows a day. Paul and John shared a suite with a piano at the George V again, but they didn’t have a lot of time to enjoy the luxury of the bed and bath like they did last time. They had to write 6 songs for their first movie (“Can you believe it, we’re going to be movie stars!” they had all cried out and jumped around when Brian had told them the news) so they had to do some real “song writing” this time in between their shows. It was a bummer they didn’t get the chance to enjoy the Parisian nightlife, like George and Ringo could, but being locked up together with their guitars and a piano in the town they loved so much, made them feel very inspired and the songs seemed to write themselves.

They were totally amazed to find their audience existing mainly of men, instead of girls, but also pleasantly surprised that they could actually hear themselves play instead of that overwhelming screaming noise that had been coming towards them at every show for the past few months.

After their first two shows at the Olympia, one in the afternoon and one at night, John and Paul had retreated to their suite at the George V with George, Ringo, Neil and Mal, talking about the surprising differences between their French and British audiences, when Brian came rushing in, waving a telegram. “Guess what, boys? Big news! You are number one in America! “I want to hold your hand” has gone to number one!” They all looked at each other for a second and then the whole suite exploded.

“Yoo-hoo! We’re number one! We’re the best! Yeah, we’ve done it!” They all hugged each other, and John and Paul held each other just a little bit longer and Paul pressed a small kiss to John’s cheek, making sure nobody saw, as John whispered in his ear “We’ve done it, baby, we’ve done it! You and me, baby, our song, together, you and me!” They hugged each other tightly before letting go of each other and joining in with the others, taking turns climbing on Mal’s back, parading through the hotel suite, jumping around like little kids.

They celebrated together with Brian and George Marin, dining in a place that served soup in chamber pots, and Brian ended up with one on his head. John and Paul sat across from each other and underneath the table they were rubbing their feet together, running their feet up each other’s shin, while throwing each other knowing glances. There was lots of laughter, good food and excellent wine and they all felt incredibly proud of what they had achieved together.

“I hope you guys keep on writing songs like this one. If you keep up the good work, we’ll all be rich in no time!” George addressed John and Paul, while stuffing his mouth full of chocolate ice cream. “Jeez, Geo, hasn’t aunt Louise taught you not to speak with a mouth full of food? It’s rather gross, you know” Paul answered. “Ah, Macca, he’s still a baby, I don’t think his mum has come around to that lesson yet” John grinned. “Hey, watch it Lennon! At least I’m not an old man yet, like you are!” George replied and then turned to Paul, sitting next to him. “Hey, Paul, are you gonna eat the rest of your ice cream? If not, can I finish it?” Paul chuckled. “Of course Geo. You need it don’t you, being a growing boy and all that!” George gave him the middle finger.

The four of them ended up sitting on a bench by the Seine, accompanied by Neil. Ringo suggested they’d pay Neil a lot of money if he jumped into the Seine for fun, but Neil declined. They were slightly drunk and after a lot of joking, they finally grew silent, staring at the water in the darkness. John’s hand rested on Paul’s thigh as the young man’s arm was loosely wrapped behind John’s shoulders, softly rubbing his upper arm with his thumb, the darkness preventing the others to see their expressions of endearment. “Number one in America, lads. We’ve really made it. We’ve reached the toppermost of the poppermost, just like we always wanted.” John spoke with melancholy in his voice. “But what will happen to us now? Will we manage to stay on top? Or will it all be over in a few months?” “Nobody knows, John. But whatever happens, we can find our way somehow, the four of us.” Paul replied, as he gave John’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. They didn’t get back to their hotel suite until 5 am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Number one in the USA! That means off to the States in the next chapter.


	57. COMING TO AMERICA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John has a chat with Steve. The Beatles arrive in America. And John has something he wants to ask Paul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

A few days later they flew to the USA. They were nervous; what would the reaction of the American public be like? Knowing they had a number one hit, eased their nerves a bit, but still……No other British act had ever been able to make it in the USA, so why would it be any different for them? What if they turned out to be just another one-hit wonder in the States? 

John looked at Paul, sitting next to him on the plane. Brian had asked them to not sit together, since there was quite a large amount of journalists on the plane as well, travelling with the band to report on their trip to America. Brian did not really trust them to be discreet and not show too many signs of affection towards each other on such a long flight, but John and Paul both insisted on sitting together. “I’m already nervous as it is, Eppy, and sitting next to Paul will help me relax. You don’t want me all agitated on a long flight, believe me” John had explained. So they were sitting side by side, secretly entwining their pinkies, or brushing their thighs against each other. 

Paul was looking out of the window, staring at the clouds beneath them, and was biting his nails, a worried frown between those perfectly shaped eyebrows. Yep, the young man was nervous. And since Paul usually wasn’t the nervous type, his behavior caused John to be even more nervous as he already was. 

And John was very nervous indeed. Not just because of their visit to the States, but also because there was something he wanted to suggest to Paul when they had settled in their hotel room. _Their shared hotel room._ Brian had also suggested Paul sharing a room with Ringo and John with George, just to make sure nobody would even think about them being together, but they both had refused to follow up on Brian’s suggestion. No way they were going to sleep apart! So they would share a hotel room tonight, as usual, and John had a suggestion to make. 

Upon their return to the UK, after their shows in Paris, they had been back to Liverpool for a few days before flying to the States. They had visited their families; Jim McCartney had almost been overcome with emotions, wishing his son success in America, and even aunt Mimi had seemed slightly emotional. They had also visited Dusty and Steve, and while they were there, John had addressed Steve about a serious issue when they were cleaning the dishes in the kitchen. “I need your advice on sex again. Steve.” 

***

“Oh no, John. Not again! What is it this time?” Steve had groaned. “Are you having problems in your sex life?” “No, no, not really. As a matter of fact, our sex life is extremely satisfying. I mean, Paul’s so sexy and sensual and making love to him is heavenly, it really is, but……” Steve raised his eyebrows. “But what, John?” John let out a pained groan. “I still want to try anal sex! It’s so frustrating! I know I can’t ask Paul to engage in anal sex, knowing what has happened to him, how he has been raped by that bastard. I understand so well that he doesn’t want that, after all the pain he had to endure as a child. But I can’t help wanting it, longing for it. It really drives me crazy sometimes! And I feel so bloody guilty for feeling like that, because I know why Paul doesn’t want it, and I don’t want to hurt him, but……” John let out a groan again. “What am I gonna do about those longings? I just don’t know how to deal with them without hurting Paul.”

Steve had felt very sorry for John, who looked at him with a desperate look on his face. “I want to try to explain to him it doesn’t have to hurt if it’s done right, like you told me. But I’m afraid he won’t believe me. After all, his experiences with anal sex have been nothing else but fear and pain, so why would he believe me? And I’m afraid if I suggest it, he might get an anxiety attack again or worse…….But what am I going to do about my longings?” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea suggesting anal sex to him, John. He’s got every right and all the good reasons to shy away from it, after what that horrible man did to him. His fear of the pain it might cause, is totally understandable. And it’s only natural he would not take your word for it that it won’t hurt. He has absolutely no reason at all to believe you. The only way to make him understand it can be really pleasurable, is to show him.” “Show him? He won’t go there Steve! There isn’t the slightest chance he wants to try, not matter what I’ll say! And I can’t possibly force him, so how can I show him?” 

“I’m not talking about showing him by fucking _him_ up the arse, John. He needs to see how _somebody else_ enjoys it.” “You mean, watching some _queer porn_ or something?” “No, that’s not what I mean. Porn movies can be staged and he certainly won’t believe some actors doing it. He needs to see and hear it from somebody he cares for, before he will believe there’s any pleasure in it. He needs to hear it _from you,_ John.” 

***

It had taken a few moments for Steve’s words to sink in. “You mean……..you think I should……you want me to let Paul……to let _Paul fuck me?”_ “That’s what I mean, John. If he sees that you’re willing to be on the bottom and that you enjoy it, it might make him overcome his fears and try it the other way around. I would always advice to do it both ways anyway, so you know what it feels like. If you know what your partner feels and experiences, you’ll be a much better lover, you know.”

John had thought about Steve’s words, while silently drying the dishes. He had never considered being the one to take it up the arse. The thought somehow never occurred to him. But it made sense somehow, didn’t it? To do it both ways. After all, they were _equals_ in every other aspect of their relationship, so why wouldn’t that be so in their sexual relationship as well? And yes, if you knew what things were like, how things felt, it would give you a better understanding of what to do to give your partner pleasure. 

“I never thought about letting Paul fuck me, Steve. It just never crossed my mind. It makes a lot of sense though, when you think about it. If I can make Paul see that I enjoy it…….I just hope I _can_ enjoy it. The thought is a bit…….a bit _scary,_ you know, like……will it hurt? But the thought is also…….kind of……. _arousing_ in a strange way.” “It’s not weird to feel a bit scared about it, John. After all, it _might_ hurt a bit at first. But if the _mere thought_ already scares you, just imagine how scared Paul must be, _knowingfor certain_ it has caused him a lot of pain. But I will assure you, John, if you do it right, if you remember the three rules……” “Relaxation, lubrication and preparation.” “Yes, if you remember those rules, it will only feel slightly uncomfortable at first. And in the end it will give you pleasure _beyond anything_ you’ve ever experienced before.” 

***

So here he was, planning to ask Paul to take him. Stupid to do so when he was already so nervous about their first television appearance in the States, but if he didn’t do it _now,_ he might lose his nerve. He had made a decision and he had to follow up on it.

Had their departure from London been a pandemonium of a few thousand of fans waiving them goodbye, their arrival at the New York airport was beyond believe. At least _five thousand_ fans crowded the airport to welcome them. “Wow! God, John, we’ve really made it!” Paul shouted at John, standing on the stairs of the airplane. Even though he stood right beside John, the overwhelming noise of thousands (it actually seemed like millions!) of screaming girls and some boys made it almost impossible to communicate with each other. All four of them looked at each other in astonishment and started waiving at their fans, big smiles on their faces. 

Besides the thousands of fans, there were something like 200 reporters and photographers waiting for them at the airport. Their first press conference on American soil turned out to be hilarious. The American press seemed to be _obsessed_ with their hair, and they were asked the most stupid questions about it. And the four of them decided, without having even discussed it amongst each other, that stupid questions deserved stupid answers. So in the end the press conference turned out to be some kind of comedy act. 

They were driven to Manhattan in a limousine, while listening to a running commentary about themselves on the radio. “They have just left the airport and coming into Manhattan as we speak” the voice on the radio said in an excited voice. But arriving at the Plaza Hotel, they didn’t have to listen to the radio to see what was happening. Hundreds and hundreds of fans stood outside the hotel, with dozens of policemen trying to control them. They were ushered into the hotel, were Brian had booked them the Presidential suite: 10 rooms on the 12th floor. The boys had no idea why there were so many rooms, since George and Ringo preferred to share a room instead of opting for a room each, and John and Paul preferred to share _a bed,_ instead of a bed each. 

Dozens of people came to visit them in their suite, they had a telephone interview with the BBC, a camera crew that would follow them during their first American trip, was constantly filming them, and after a long and exhausting day, they finally retired to their bedrooms. John and Paul practically fell asleep the moment their bodies touched the mattress with their arms and legs entwined. John never managed to make his suggestion to Paul. 

***

Next day was filled with photo shoots, interviews, a walk in Central Park and rehearsals for their upcoming appearance at the Ed Sullivan Show. For John, Paul and Ringo, that is. Not for George, though, who had come down with a severe sore throat and a high temperature and had to stay in bed. Brian was extremely worried. “What if he can’t perform tomorrow night? This television show might be the most important performance of your entire lives, and he has chosen this moment to fall ill.” “Oh come on, Eppy, it’s not like he’s done it on purpose” John had replied, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit worried himself. What would they do it George wouldn’t be able to perform tomorrow? They could use Neil as a stand-in at the rehearsals, but that wouldn’t be possible when they had to go on for real.

Of course it was Paul who reassured them all. “George is just going to take some antibiotics, some painkillers and stay in bed today, and after a good night’s sleep, he’ll be able to perform tomorrow night. After all, he can sleep it off tomorrow as well, you know, stay in bed until it’s time for us to go to the theatre. And he’s got his sister here to take care of him, so I’m sure he’ll be as right as rain tomorrow night. So let’s go and attend to today’s duties, and leave George to rest. See you later Geo.” 

***

It wasn’t until 4 am that the three of them returned to their hotel, having explored New York’s nightlife by visiting some clubs. Slightly drunk, they stumbled into their suite, shushing each other to keep silent, so they didn’t wake up George. Who did wake up of course. “You took your time getting back here. Not very kind of you to have a night on the town together, leaving me all alone in this place. I hope you enjoyed yourselves? Probably didn’t spare a single second thinking of poor old me. Scored any birds tonight, did you?” John, who was the most intoxicated of the three of them, his arms wrapped around Ringo and Paul’s shoulders to keep himself from falling down, raised his eyebrows. “Birds? Why would I want to score birds when I’m already in such lovely company?” He looked at Paul as he said that and Paul kicked his shin. “Ouch, that hurt!” “I think it’s time for us all to get some sleep, guys. We’ve got a big day ahead of us. Night everybody.”

John knew there was something he wanted to ask Paul, but somehow his drunken mind didn’t seem to work too well, and he couldn’t come up with the question he wanted to ask. He knew it was something important, but he just couldn’t remember what it was. Damn. Should have gone a bit easier on the booze. Well, too late for it now. The question would return to his mind tomorrow morning. Nothing to be done about it now. He didn’t even take off his clothes, fell down on the bed and was gone in a few seconds. 

***

Of course the next day came with a hell of a hung-over. John groaned as he sat at the table in the shared area of the Presidential suite, staring in disgust at the breakfast in front of him, consisting of everything his stomach couldn’t tolerate right now, like bacon, sausages, hash browns, eggs…….Yuk.

He opted for a cup of tea, hoping that would ease his upset stomach, but spit the hot drink out as soon as he had tasted it. “What the fuck is this!” Paul chuckled. “It’s supposed to be tea, but I’m not sure the Americans know what tea is. You’ll be better off trying a cup of coffee, Johnny. Might help to overcome your hang-over as well.” 

John looked at the grinning face of his lover. Paul didn’t seem to have a hang-over at all! Yet he drank quite a lot last night as well. Well, maybe a little less. Maybe quite a bit less. Fuck! Why didn’t Paul tell him to ease down on the booze last night? He was supposed to be the sensible one, damned! God his head felt like all the dwarfs of Narnia had decided to hammer in his skull. There was something he had to ask Paul. But he couldn’t remember with all those dwarfs. “Here have some painkillers and lay down for a while. You have half an hour before we have to go to the rehearsal.” 

Paul offered him a pill and a glass of water, and nodded in the direction of the bedroom. _The bedroom. Paul. Fuck! He remembered!_ But he couldn’t ask Paul now, could he? Not while he had a splitting headache and they had such an important day ahead of them. But Paul looked so delicious! 

And the thought of what he was about to ask Paul made him suddenly feel very hot. His groin stirred. Not now, Lennon, not now! He lay down on the bed, closed his eyes, and was awoken by Paul half an hour later, feeling much better. He’d ask him tonight. 

***

The rehearsal for the Ed Sullivan Show turned out to be not only very time consuming, but rather difficult as well. Not that Ed Sullivan wasn’t nice. He in fact was a very nice man, who seemed to be really interested in them, asking them a lot of questions. Paul especially liked it when he asked him about his Hoffner bass, which by now had become very dear to him. Neil did a good job pretending to be George, so good some members of the show’s crew actually believed he was George. They had to explain several times that Neil was only a stand-in.

The problem was the sound equipment of the tv studio. That wasn’t very good at all. And another problem was the total misunderstanding of the sound engineers that this band actually had _two_ leadsingers, so that John and Paul’s mics had to be _switched to lead microphones_ whenever one or the other sang lead. They actually had to go into the control booth themselves to make adjustments. When they asked the engineers to playback the taped rehearsal, they were met with astonishment. Nobody had ever asked for that! But they insisted, they had to be very sure everything was done right. This was going to be their big American break after all. 

After their rehearsals John, Paul and Ringo went for a dinner in a very nice restaurant with George Martin and some executives from Capitol Records. While eating his chops, John watched Paul intently. Would it be right to pop that important question to Paul tonight? Ahead of such an important day? But if he didn’t ask this night, he might end up not asking at all, losing his nerve completely. 

Paul laughed at something one of the executives said, and the sound of that alluring laugh sent pleasant shivers through John’s body. Oh how he loved Paul’s laughter! And the way Paul’s lips curled up when he laughed. And the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed. He felt all warm inside and felt his groin tingle. He’d had to ask Paul tonight. _Tonight would be the night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, will John finally ask Paul that all important question? And what will their stay in the USA be like?  
> Read all about it in the next chapter!


	58. CONQUERING AMERICA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Performing in the Ed Sullivan show, time off in Miami and John has something to ask Paul......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“I hope everything goes well tomorrow. I don’t have a lot of faith in the abilities of those technicians. What’s so hard to understand? They just have to remember who sings lead on what song and turn on the right microphone accordingly for lead singing and the other one for backing vocals. Can’t be that difficult. They manage to do so in Britain.” Paul was undressing in their hotel room while ventilating his worries to John upon their return from the restaurant. He had kicked off his shoes, taken off his socks and dropped his trousers to the ground. Then he started loosening his tie. John was sitting on the bed, fiddling his thumbs, hardly listening to what his lover was saying. He had other things on his mind.

“The restaurant was rather nice, wasn’t it? Good pork chops. Didn’t dare to try the pheasant, like George Martin and the others had, but it smelled very tasty and it just looked a bit like chicken. Maybe I’ll try it next time. What do you think, John, you think I should try……” “I want you to fuck me.” Well, that was not exactly the way he had meant it to come out. He had wanted to suggest it in a very romantic way, after a loving introduction about how much he loved Paul and all that, but instead he had just blurted it out.

_“You what?”_ Paul looked at him with wide eyes, the perfect eyebrows raised almost impossible high.“I want you to fuck me.” Paul’s mouth dropped open as well. “I thought I heard it wrong, but I suppose I didn’t. What _on earth_ do you mean by that John?” “Well, I mean it exactly the way I’ve said it. I want you to fuck me up the arse.” John looked up at Paul, who had stopped loosening his tie, his hands lingering there hesitantly, his long, bare, hairy legs looking absolutely delicious.

“Why would you want me to do such a thing?” Paul asked confused. “Because I want to find out what it’s like, I suppose.” Paul shook his head. “No, John, you _don’t_ want to find out. I can tell you what it’s like. _It’s horrible!_ It hurts like hell! It’s like being ripped apart. It burns and hurts. There’s absolutely _nothing_ good about it. Believe me, you _do not_ want me to do that to you. I _don’t want_ to do that to you. I don’t want to hurt you that way.”

“But it doesn’t _have_ to hurt, baby. Why do you think homosexual men fuck each other all the time if it doesn’t feel good? I’ve been told it gives unimaginable pleasure if it’s done right.” “But John, I’ve been there! I know it hurts! It never gave me any _unimaginable pleasure_ at all, just _unimaginable pain!”_

“That’s because that bastard _raped_ you, baby. He didn’t give a damn about _your feelings._ Did he use any lubrication?” “No……” “Did he prepare you before entering, by stretching you slowly with his fingers first?” “No……” “Did you relax your muscles down there when he fucked you?” “No…….” “I thought so. He only thought about his _own_ pleasure, never considered _your_ feelings for a second. But if you remember those things, lubrication, preparation and relaxation, it will be a totally different experience. And there’s supposed to be a certain spot inside, the prostate it’s called, and when that is rubbed it must feel like you’ve gone to heaven, so I’ve been told. So I really would like to find out what that’s like. So, will you show me what it feels like baby?”

Paul’s hands dropped down, his tie only loosened a little. “Who told you such nonsense, John?” he asked angrily. “It’s not true at all. I know it _doesn’t_ give any pleasure, and I don’t know _anything_ about a spot inside that makes me feel like I’m in heaven. _It’s sheer hell!_ I’m not going to do that to you!” John sighed deeply. “Steve told me so, baby. Why would he lie to me about it? That Maxwell bastard just didn’t consider your feelings, Paul. He raped you! _That’s not making love._ Steve assured me that if we do it _right,_ it _will_ give me a lot of pleasure. I really, _really_ want to find out what it’s like, love, I really do! Will you please show me what it’s like? _Please Paul?”_

Paul sat down on the bed next to John, looking defeated. John caressed his cheek with the back of his hand. “I suppose I kind of took you by surprise, didn’t I, love? But it will be fine, baby, everything will be alright, my little bunny.” Paul looked up at John and chuckled. _“Little bunny?_ That’s a new one. Where did that one come from?” John kept caressing Paul’s cheek. “Your front teeth, baby. They always remind me of a cute little bunny.” Paul shook his head. “You silly git! But seriously John. Do you really mean it? Do you really want me to……to…….I don’t think I can! I don’t want to hurt you like that!”

“But you _won’t_ hurt me, baby. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Steve……..” “Yeah, and that’s another thing, why do you discuss something like that, _our sex life,_ with Steve?” “Who else can I ask if I want to know things about homosexual sex, love. _Brian?_ I’d rather talk to Dusty and Steve about it. And like I said, why would Steve tell me it’s good when it isn’t? There’s no reason for him to lie about it, is there? If we do it right, you won’t hurt me, I promise.”

Paul looked at him with eyes full of doubt, biting his bottom lip. His hand went up and he started biting the nail of his index finger nervously. John’s hand tenderly removed Paul’s finger from his mouth. “You should stop biting your nails, baby. It tells how nervous you are.” He softly kissed the corner of Paul’s mouth. “Will you at least think about, baby?”

Paul sighed deeply. “I will _think_ about it, Johnny. But if I decide to go ahead with……..you know……..if I’m going to……well, we’re not going to do that right now. I mean, not when we’re in America about to get our big break. If we’re going to do it, we’ll do it when we’re back in Britain, in our own home. Not in some hotel room in the States. I want to do it in a familiar, safe environment. If we’re going to take such an important step, I want to feel _at ease._ Are you okay with that?”

Paul looked at him with those beautiful kaleidoscope eyes, still full of doubt, his entire face a question mark. And when he gave John a small, shy smile, he actually did look a little like a cute little bunny. “Of course I’m okay with that, bunny.” He tenderly caressed Paul cheek again but then blurted out: ”God, I can’t wait for us to go back good old Britain now!”

***

Of course one on the mics didn’t work well, but George was feeling well enough to perform with them, and the audience was so excited! When the next day, before giving some interviews, they were told about the amount of people that had watched their performance, they were absolutely flabbergasted. “73 million viewers? You’ve got to be joking!” Paul had cried out. “Good thing I didn’t know how many people were watching, I wouldn’t have been able to sing a single note right” John said dumbfounded. “That’s far more than the entire population of the UK! I can’t believe it!” George added. “And they all watched the show because of us? Four lads from Liverpool?” Ringo asked. “Yes, Richard, because of the Beatles. It’s a record breaking amount of viewers. It’s all over the news today" Brian had answered proudly.

During the long train ride to Washington the next day, they were followed by photographers and journalists, and when they finally arrived in Washington (boy, was that a long ride, they never thought about how far away those cities were from each other!) they were greeted by something like 2000 fans at the train station, waiting for them in the cold, standing in a few inches of snow. _Unbelievable!_

That night’s performance was very surreal. The show took place in a boxing arena, and they had to perform in the round. Every few songs, Ringo’s drum kit had to be turned 180 degrees, so the people behind them could see them. Mal would help Ringo move his kit and John, Paul and George had to carry their microphones to the other side of the stage. And George’s microphone wasn’t even working!

And on top of that, the audience threw _jellybeans_ at them! It felt like a hailstorm of millions of bullets hitting them from _every_ side. They couldn’t escape them. “If you ever say you like jellybeans again, I’m gonna finish you off, Harrison!” John had called George out on him mentioning liking those sweets during an interview. “I said I liked _jelly babies,_ John. It’s not my fault they don’t know the difference between them over here.”

“I’m going to give Brian a piece of my mind about the venue” Paul said angrily. _“Performing in the round!_ He’d better not do that to us again. We looked absolutely _ridiculous_ turning everything around all the time. And those poor teenagers! They’ve paid to see us, and half of the time, all they could see were our arses!”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind paying to see _your arse,_ Paul!” John winked at him mischievously. “And I’m sure all those girls wetted themselves, seeing your sexy arse bopping up and down in those tight trousers!” Ringo and George doubled up in laughter, seeing Paul’s offended face. “But you are right, Paul, tonight was absolutely ridiculous.” Ringo said. “I hope we won’t have to go through something like that again.”

But things were going from bad to worse, when that night, when they attended a reception at the British Embassy in their honour, one of the guests cut off a piece of Ringo’s hair! They walked out, totally enraged, and told Brian to _never_ submit them to something like that again!

***

The next day they had to go back to New York again. So once again they spent two hours on the train. “Couldn’t Brian have planned this better? This is such a waste of our time!” John grumbled. And when a crowd of 10.000 screaming fans made it practically impossible for their limousine to reach them at the station, and they were driven to their hotel in a rather uncomfortable, hastily called taxi , John grumbled even more. And when they were rushed out of the hotel for their show at the Carnegie Hall through the hotel’s kitchen and backdoor, to avoid the immense crowd waiting for them in front of the hotel, John’s mood had plummeted completely.

Paul and George however, found it all to be very funny. “It’s just like we’re spies, sneaking out in secrecy like this!” they shouted merrily, as they were rushed to their car, after hurriedly greeting the amazed cooks and their aids as they ran through the kitchen. John looked at Ringo and shook his head. “Why do we have to put up with such _children?_ Next thing you know, the two of them will be playing cowboys and Indians!”

“Oh come on Johnny, don’t be such a spoil-sport! It’s _exciting!”_ But Paul’s happy smile didn’t smooth John’s mood, “We’re in the presidential suite, for Christ’s sake, yet we have to use the staff lift and go through the backdoor to some dark alley. I think it’s _ridiculous!”_

After their performance at Carnegie Hall, however, _Paul’s mood_ had tumbled down as well. “God, the acoustics were _terrible!_ And then they refused George Martin to record our show, even though it was agreed upon! And why on earth did they have people sitting _on_ the stage? And what about all those rich kids backstage?” John couldn’t agree more, “Brian better starts doing something about that, I felt like a caged animal on display.”

***

Two days later things looked a lot better, when they arrived in Miami. Greeted by thousands of fans at the airport, escorted by policemen as their limousine drove them to their hotel along a road aligned with fans, the four young men marvelled at the palm trees they saw everywhere. “And did you see the guns those policemen carry? They’re _huge!_ Quite a difference from our English Bobbies!” Ringo pointed at one of the policemen that accompanied them to the hotel.

There was a swimming pool they could use, and seeing Paul in just his swimming trunks made John’s head swirl. God the boy looked delicious! He grabbed Paul’s legs under water a couple of times, pulling him under and Paul’s laughter at this playful interaction sounded like angels singing to John’s ears.

They had a lovely home cooked meal at the house of the policeman that was assigned to them as their personal bodyguard, which was a breath of fresh air after all their hotel meals, and on top of that, the family was nice company. Paul played with the policeman’s children in the pool, and as John watched him, lying on a sun bed next to the pool, he thought Paul looked completely in his element with them.

Of course John had seen him with children before. At those McCartney family get-togethers he was often amazed at the way Paul interacted with his younger cousins, he always enjoyed playing with them, giving them all of his attention. He didn’t even mind _changing a napkin!_

It crossed John’s mind that Paul would make a great dad. Paul probably _wanted_ to be a dad, come to think of it. But John couldn’t make him a dad, could he? He wanted to give Paul all he ever wanted, but there was one thing he would never be able to give him: _children._ John had never thought about having children, it was not something he particularly wanted. _But what if Paul did?_ What if Paul decided he wanted to have children and realized that he would never have them as long as he stayed with John? _Would he leave John then?_ Would that mean the end of their relationship? John felt like suddenly a dark cloud hung over him. _Children._ Would their life together come to an end over children? He stood up from his sun bed and went inside, away from the annoying children's voices. _He hated children._

***

Of course there was a lot of work between their short moments of free time. They had to rehearse for their second Ed Sullivan Show, to be recorded in Miami this time. And when they performed at the show the next day, they again were watched by more than 70 million viewers. John thought Paul looked especially sexy that night in his new grey suit with black velvet lapels and tight trousers. His legs looked so deliciously long in it!

After their show, there was a party at the hotel, and the boys tried lobster for the very first time in their lives. Ringo, always a difficult eater, had tried it and hated it. Paul thought it was okay, but he preferred the chicken and beef that were also on the menu. John and George _loved_ it. “I don’t think I want to eat _anything else ever!”_ George had exclaimed, with John agreeing. “Well, we can afford it now, can’t we Brian? So it’s lobster for me and Geo from now on!”

Next day they had _the whole day off!_ They spent it waterskiing. Well _trying_ to water-ski, as they actually spend more time _in_ the water, then _on_ the water-skis, falling off constantly. Paul managed to stay on them for the longest time, and he really enjoyed it. John gave up quite quickly, saying people were not meant to stand on the water, otherwise they’d have _flippers_ instead of _feet._ But he had a lot of fun watching George and Ringo fall off all the time, and secretly admiring Paul _not_ falling off.

Their last day in Miami was filled with promotional activities, one of them a photo shoot with Cassius Clay. None of them was particularly into sports, but _Cassius Clay_ they certainly knew! Just a pity they hardly understood a word the man said, since they were not familiar with his heavy accent. And here they were, thinking America would be an easy country to visit since they all spoke English! Who’d have thought there were _so many versions_ of the English language?

Next day they flew back home. On the long flight back to England, the four of them reminisced about all that had happened to them, during their visit to the States. There was no doubt about it: _they had made it!_ They had definitely reached _the toppermost of the poppermost._ So what was next? More touring of course, to other countries. More radio and tv-shows. More records to be made. More number one hits. And Brian had told them they were asked to make their own _movie!_ Their future seemed to be filled with wonders.

But John didn’t think about the band’s future enterprises. All he could think about was _Paul._ Paul who was going _to fuck him_ once they’d returned home. He felt a tingling stir in his groin and could hardly wait for the plane to touch down in London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So John has finally asked Paul that important question and Paul promised to think about it. But will he actually agree to go ahead with John's proposition? Maybe we'll find out in the next chapter!


	59. PAUL MAKES A DECISION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> The boys return from America and John reminds Paul of a promise he made. Paul thinks about it and makes a decision.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

They arrived at Heathrow early in the morning and were astonished to see a couple of thousand fans screaming for them at that hour of day. A press conference and interviews followed, and their return to British soil after their triumphant visit to the States was all over the news. 

The day had been so filled with appointments that the four of them didn’t arrive back at their Green Street apartment till late that evening. They were exhausted, jet-lagged and ready to go to sleep as soon as they entered the safety of their apartment. _All of them except John._

Paul had promised him that he would fuck him once they got back home, and since they were home now, it was time to get things going, right? Of course Paul only promised to _think_ about it, but John knew he would make the right decision, right? The right decision being that he _would_ fuck John. And now was the time to do it.

“Baby, are we going to do it tonight?” he cooed as they had entered their shared bedroom, both undressing. “Do what, Johnny?” Paul asked a little confused. “Are you going to fuck me tonight? You promised we’d do it when we got home.” Paul’s eyebrows went up in amazement. “I never promised such a thing, John. I promised to _think_ about it. And _if,_ I emphasize _if , if_ I decided to go ahead with it, we’d do it at home, not in a hotel room. I haven’t made up my mind yet, though, and even if I had, I’m way too tired to do _anything_ tonight. And we have to get up early tomorrow as well.”

“Oh.” It was all John could say. He had such high hopes for this night, and he was very disappointed by Paul’s words. Strange, really. He had longed _to fuck Paul_ for so long already, and never thought about doing it _the other way around._ But now he’d had made up his mind, to feel what it was like being the one _to get fucked,_ he couldn’t wait to find out what it was like. But it seemed it wasn’t going to happen tonight. If it even was going to happen _at all._

The disappointment must have been written all over his face, because Paul suddenly took him in his arms. “Don’t be sad, Johnny. I promised you I’d think about it, and think about it I will. And I think in the end I will probably do it, if you really still want it, but I need a little more time, okay? Now let’s go to sleep, we have rehearsals for the “Big Night Out” television show early tomorrow morning, and I think we both can use a good night’s sleep. So let’s go to bed and I will hold you close tonight, alright darling?”

John nodded his head, relishing Paul’s long, strong arms around him, inhaling the young man’s scent that always made him feel relaxed and loved. He wouldn’t be fucked up the arse tonight, but at least he would sleep in Paul’s arms. That would have to do for now.

***

The next few days were filled with recording sessions. They would start filming for their first movie in March (Paul still couldn’t believe they were going to make _a real movie!_ He had been so proud when he told his dad the big news!), and they had to finish the songs for the movie first.

They found time to celebrate George’s twenty-first birthday together with George Martin and Brian, and had a lovely dinner with turtle soup, smoked salmon and Chateaubriand steak. Paul never had turtle soup before, but it had tasted amazing (as long as he didn’t think about cute little turtles crawling around). The Chateaubriand had been absolutely delicious.

They had recorded Paul’s “And I love her” (the original lyrics of course being “And I love him”) and during the recording, John had looked at him with lovesick eyes. “John, you have to stop looking at me like that. People might start to suspect something if you keep that lovesick look on your face” Paul had whispered to him between two takes.

Five days after their return from America, Paul found himself sharing the same mic with John while recording the vocals for “If I fell.” Looking each other in the eyes while delivering one of their best vocal harmonies ever, singing those words of love to each other, Paul knew he couldn’t deny John’s wish any longer. It would be cruel to do so, if the man _he loved,_ the man who so clearly _loved him,_ whose love for him so clearly showed in his eyes, really wanted Paul to fuck him.

Concentrating on his high harmony, singing those sincere words of love, looking in his lover’s eyes, he made up his mind. Tonight would be the night. His stomach was doing somersaults at the thought of what he was about to do, and his mind was swirling so much he didn’t notice how everybody remained completely silent for a couple of moments after they had finished their song, and he kept staring in John’s eyes. Those beautiful, warm, almond eyes. He was awoken out of his reverie by George Martin’s voice coming down from the control room. “That was absolutely beautiful boys. I believed every word you sang, it sounded so sincere and pure. This must have been the best vocals you have ever done. Congratulations gentlemen!”

***

When they arrived at their apartment at Green Street, Paul was suddenly faced with a problem. Although he and John often made love in their shared room, with George and Ringo sleeping in the other bedrooms (they had learned to keep their voices down during sexual encounters after all), Paul didn’t know if they would be able to keep the noise down when they had their first go at anal sex. But they could hardly tell their band mates to go and sleep somewhere else, so he and John could fuck, could they? So what to do?

They were recording for a radio show tomorrow, but they weren’t due in the studio until 6.30 pm. So they would have the entire day off. What if he asked George and Ringo to go someplace else tomorrow? That Brian had asked him and John to come up with one more song for their upcoming movie, so they had to write one tomorrow and needed to be alone in their apartment? He knew George and Ringo would understand, after all, they knew they always did their best work when they were alone, without anyone there to interrupt the creative process. That way he would have the entire day alone with John in their apartment to.......well, you know what. So that’s what he decided to do.

But when the next morning George and Ringo left, telling them good luck with their song writing, Paul’s stomach was doing somersaults and he felt very nervous and unsure. Was he really going to do this? “What’s with the song writing? I thought we had enough songs for the movie? Do we have to write another one today?” John looked at him with questioning eyes. Paul hesitated for a moment, but then decided to jump down the rabbit hole. After all, jumping down rabbit holes had sort of become his second nature.

“Yes, Johnny, we have some song writing to do. But not of the musical kind.” He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously and John immediately understood. “Oh, that kind of song writing huh? Want me all to yourself today? Well, I’m all for it, babe!”

Paul pulled John toward him by the loops of his belt and then placed his arms around John’s waist. “I think it’s time to put some of that advice you were given to the test.” “What advice might that be then, baby?” “Well, how did you put it, lubrication, preparation and relaxation?” John’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “You’re going to fuck me?”

***

John could hardly believe his ears. It was finally going to happen! Paul had decided to do it at last! He cupped Paul’s cheeks with both of his hands and kissed him passionately. Then, pulling away from him a bit, he looked Paul in the eyes intensely for a few moments. “Are you really going to fuck me up the arse, baby? You’ve decided you want to try it?” His cock was starting to stir just thinking about what was about to happen. “No, John, I’m not going to fuck you.” “You’re not? I thought......” “Johnny, I don’t think “fucking” sounds very romantic. I prefer “making love” because I want it to be a romantic, loving experience. I want it to be very special, and “fucking” sounds so......so......impersonal.”

“Well, call it whatever you want! Let’s just go ahead and _do it!”_ John started to pull Paul towards the bedroom, walking backwards and at the same time attacking Paul’s lips feverishly. God, the boy had such fantastic lips! When his legs touched the bed, he let himself fall backwards, taking Paul with him, so the gorgeous young man was on top of him. He pulled Paul’s face towards him, running his hands through the dark locks, kissing the luscious lips, and then tried to unbutton Paul’s shirt, but to his dismay, his hands were shaking profoundly. Suddenly nerves were getting the better of him. _Shit._

Paul, resting his elbows next to John’s head, looked at him with doubt in his eyes. “Are you having second thoughts, Johnny? Because if you have, we can stop it right here. We don’t have to go through with it if you’re not sure......” John shook his head and his hands stopped shaking. _“No way,_ bunny, we’re not going to stop now. I want to feel you inside of me. God you have _no idea_ how much I’ve been longing for it!”

There was still doubt in Paul’s eyes. “Are you sure? I want you to be very sure. I don’t want to hurt you in any way.” “You won’t baby, if we do it right, it won’t hurt. Now come on, let me get you out of these clothes. I want to see you naked right now!” He ripped Paul shirt open, buttons flying everywhere, and then flipped him over so he was on top of Paul. Straddling Paul’s hips, his hands caressed the naked chest of the man now lying beneath him, looking up at him with those sinfully beautiful eyes, black hair all messed up. “God you’re _so damned sexy,_ I want you so much!”

He started to unbutton Paul’s pants, but again his hands were trembling. Paul took his hands in his, squeezing them softly. “Relax, Johnny, relax. There’s no need to rush anything. We’ve got the whole day.” John let himself fall off of Paul, and lying next to him on the bed, he sighed deeply. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I really, _really_ want this!” “If you really want, it, my love, you will get it. But let’s just take it slow, alright?” Paul turned on his side and his hand slowly started to unbutton John’s shirt. “We’ve got all the time in the world, my beautiful Johnny.”

***

Paul was still a bit hesitant and nervous. He was afraid he would hurt John, after all, he remembered only too well how much it had hurt. But Steve had told John it wouldn’t hurt if they’d follow his advice, and why would Steve lie about it? And John seemed so sure. But then he saw John’s hands tremble and realized he was just as nervous as he was, maybe even more so. After all, John was the one who was going to take it up the arse.

He realized he had to calm John down. Make him relax, reassure him, if they were going to make this work. So that’s what he did. And when finally all of their clothes were on the ground and they were lying naked on the bed, facing each other, Paul caressed John’s face. “You still want to go through with it Johnny?” “Yes, I do, baby” John whispered. “Okay, just tell me what you want me to do. And if you’re not comfortable with it, or when it hurts, and you want me to stop, please tell me so, and I will stop immediately, I promise.”

John looked at him with so much love in his eyes, Paul felt his heart overflow with love. He kissed John’s mouth tenderly and took John’s semi-erect cock in his hand. “Maybe I’ll just warm you up a bit, does that sound okay to you?” “Very, okay, bunny” John moaned. Paul slowly but surely moved his hand up and down John’s shaft, his thumb sliding over John’s tip every now and then, which only made John moan even more. He increased his tempo, just the way he knew John liked, until John’s proud penis was fully erect. “Can you take the lube now, baby, there’s a bottle in the top drawer.”

“Ah, you really are prepared, aren’t you” Paul grinned. “Good thing you thought about it, ‘cause I wouldn’t have.” He reached for the bottle, opened it and looked at John questioningly. “What do I do now?” “Spread it on your fingers, baby, and then start touching my hole, smearing lube there as well and then try to slide one finger in.”

Paul did as he was told and carefully circled John’s rim with one finger. John moaned loudly. And then slowly, oh so slowly, he tried to push his finger in. He felt John’s body tensing, as a groan escaped John’s mouth that sounded to Paul like his lover was in pain. He quickly withdrew his finger, panic taking over. “I’m hurting you! _I knew it!_ I knew it wouldn’t feel good!” John grabbed his wrist and guided his hand back between his legs. “You’re not hurting me, baby, it’s just feels a bit weird, that’s all. Come on, bunny, don’t stop now.”

Hesitantly Paul tried to push his finger back in, first just a little bit, until he felt John relax around his finger, and then further. He looked up at John with worried eyes. “Is this okay? Tell me if you want me to stop, please?” John looked at him with sinfully lustful eyes. “Try a second one, baby. Just add another finger, make sure to use lots of lube,” John’s voice sounded very heated as he spurred Paul on. And so Paul added another finger. He felt John tense up again and almost withdrew his fingers again, but John grabbed his wrist and held his hand in place. “Just give me a few moments to adjust to the feeling, bunny.”

Paul felt John relax around his fingers again and looked up at his lover again. “What do you want me to do next?” he asked, feeling very uncertain. John smiled at him, trying to reassure him. “Just start moving you fingers, in and out, and scissoring them a bit, and try to find that spot Steve has told me about.” Paul did as he was told, moving his fingers slowly, constantly watching John’s face to notice any signs of pain. There seemed to be a little bit of discomfort, but also lust.......He moved his fingers a bit faster, feeling around a little until he rubbed a spot that felt a bit different. John suddenly threw his head back, while his whole body seemed to tense. But by the look on John’s face, it was certainly not out of pain. “Paul, Paul, Paul! _Fuck, Paul, there!_ Oh my God! There, do that again! Please do that again!” Paul’s eyes widened at John’s reaction. He guessed Steve had been right after all. There actually was a kind of pleasure spot inside. _And he had just found it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems like things really are about to happen. Finally!


	60. FINALLY!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Finally! A lot of sex. But then work gets in the way......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John’s entire body seemed to be on fire. Paul’s long, slender, elegant fingers had touched something inside of him, that felt better than anything he’d ever felt before. It made his cock stir and his mind swirl. Passion took over his senses and he wanted more! More fingers, more movement, more of that amazing feeling. “Again, baby, do that again!” he heard himself plead. And then Paul rubbed his fingers on that spot again and John saw stars! “God, baby, yeah, that’s it! Fuck, I love your fingers, feels so gooooood, ooooh!” Paul rubbed the spot again and John was sure he was in heaven.

Paul kept moving his fingers and John thought he was about to come on the spot, but he didn’t want to come yet! He wanted to feel Paul inside of him! He wanted Paul to fuck him. He wanted that hard cock inside of him. _Hard cock?_ Looking at Paul’s groin, he realised Paul wasn’t even semi-erect! What was that all about? “Baby? Are you alright? You don’t seem to be very aroused” he whispered huskily as he winked at Paul’s groin. When Paul looked down at his flaccid penis, his cheeks coloured. “Eh, yeah I’m fine. It’s just...... I’m so worried about hurting you.......it kind of makes it hard for me to be in the moment......Sorry.......”

“Don’t worry about it. Lennon’s on the case!” He grabbed Paul’s cock and started stroking it the way he knew Paul liked. But when Paul started to remove his fingers out of his hole, he urged his lover to continue “Don’t stop bunny, it feels so good! I can’t wait to feel that big, hard prick inside my arse, I want you to fuck me senseless! I want you to take me and brand me as yours.” Paul chuckled. “You’re into dirty talking today, are you Johnny? You really....... _oooh!”_ John smiled. He _did_ know exactly what Paul liked. Paul’s cock, now fully erect, twisted as John’s thumb slid over the tip, smearing the precum al over it, causing Paul to moan deeply.

“Now hand me the lube, baby, I’ll coat that gorgeous, hard cock of yours in it and then we can get started!” Paul moaned again as John smeared the oily stuff all over his length. “Now move over here, bunny, and show me what it’s like. I want to feel _all of you,_ baby.” Suddenly he saw the doubt appear in Paul’s eyes again. “Don’t worry, honey, it’ll be alright. Just do it okay?” He felt Paul push his hard-on between his arse cheeks and rub his rim. He moaned. He loved the feeling. He wanted _more._ He wanted it _all._ He felt Paul press against his hole and slowly push in. _But God, it hurt!_ He told himself to relax. Don’t show pain, or Paul will stop!

Suddenly the tip of Paul’s cock slipped in and John bit his lip to stop himself from showing the pain he felt. Man, this was more painful then he’d expected! He willed himself to relax more, and felt Paul’s length slowly, but surely slide inside. And then he was in completely. He heard Paul breathing heavily and when he watched the young man’s face, he saw that Paul’s eyes were closed, a frown between his perfect brows, completely concentrating on what he was doing. “Just hold still for a while baby” he whispered “Just so I can adjust to the feeling.” Paul opened his eyes at John’s words. “Should I stop? Should I pull out?” Once again he saw the worry and doubt in those gorgeous eyes. “No, bunny, just hold still for a while.”

They were staring in each other’s eyes, sharing that intense look that always made them feel like they were one. _“Move,_ baby, just move now.” And that’s what Paul did. The pain turned to pleasure, the most intense pleasure he had ever felt. Paul started moaning. “Feels so good, Johnny, so tight.......” And when Paul hit his prostate over and over again, John felt his cock stir. He was so turned on, so aroused, it felt so good......He wanted this to last forever! But he also wanted, no, _needed_ to come! He grabbed his own cock, wanting to stroke himself, but Paul pushed his hand away. “Let me, Johnny, let me” Paul’s voice whispered huskily.

John was so far gone, that after a few perfect strokes of those long, slender fingers, he came all over his belly and Paul’s hand. He didn’t think he’d ever come so hard before in his entire life. He felt his arse clench around Paul’s prick and that pushed Paul over the edge as well. He felt Paul’s cum deep inside of him as Paul’s cries of pleasure filled the room. He loved to hear Paul’s voice as he came. He loved the look on Paul’s face as he came. _He loved Paul......._

Paul let his body fall down on John’s, panting heavily, as he laid his face in the crook of John’s neck. He felt Paul’s warm, moist breath touching the skin there. It made him shiver. “That was great, Johnny” Paul whispered. John nodded and kissed Paul’s temple. “That was the best fuck ever, baby. Thank you. _Thank you so much.”_ Paul raised his head, looking in his eyes with total amazement. “You really liked it then? It didn’t _hurt?”_ “No baby. It didn’t hurt. A bit uncomfortable at first, but then.......it felt sooooo good, you have no idea......” He caressed Paul’s cheek. “Another rabbit hole we jumped through together, my bunny. And I’m so glad we did.......”

***

Paul watched John as he tried to get out off the bed. They’d been lying there for what seemed like hours, in post-coitus bliss, John’s head peacefully on Paul’s chest, Paul lazily stroking john’s hair. But now John was moaning and groaning. “God, my whole body hurts. I don’t think I can stand up straight. Maybe we’d better call Brian and tell him to cancel the radio show tonight.” Paul chuckled. “What will you tell him, Johnny? _Paul fucked me up the arse this afternoon and I’m not able to walk right now?_ I wonder how he will react to that!” “Hey, stop laughing at me, McCartney, this isn’t funny!”

Suddenly Paul felt concerned. He only remembered too well the immense pain he’d felt every time after Mr. Maxwell had raped him. He quickly got out off the bed and put his arm around John’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, darling. Have I hurt you that badly? You’re not bleeding, are you?” Thinking back on the bloodstains in his underwear, made him feel incredibly guilty. He had hurt John. _He knew it!_ He should never have given in to John’s desires. After all, he knew how painful it was! _“I know_ I shouldn’t have done it...... _I’m so sorry”_

“No, love, I’m not bleeding, and it doesn’t hurt that much, it just feels a bit uncomfortable. I’ll be alright. And I don’t regret what we’ve done for _a single second,_ baby, so you’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I’m just going to get a nice hot shower, and I’ll be alright again.” “Can I join you? We can wash each other’s hair.” John smiled at him and took his hand in his. “I wouldn’t dream of showering without you.”

Standing in the shower, the hot water running down their bodies, washing the shampoo away, after the relaxing feeling of their fingers massaging each other’s scalps, their lips touched tenderly. They had taken a giant leap in their relationship, and they both realized it. Paul felt closer to his lover than he had ever felt. He had made love to John and to his surprise John had liked it. _Loved_ it even.

He had still trouble coming to terms with it. He had always _hated_ it. It had never felt good, it had only hurt. But John had said it had been the best feeling ever, and he had seen the sheer pleasure on John’s face. Could it possibly feel good after all? And for the first time he wondered if he _should let John take him........._

***

A few days later they started filming their very first movie. John had been walking on cloud nine ever since Paul had taken him. It had been so amazing! He had wanted to do it again, but their schedules had been so filled with appointments, that when they arrived back late at night at Green Street, they were too exhausted to do _anything else_ but sleep. But before they could tuck in for the night, the four of them had to rehearse their lines for the movie. John didn’t even get _the chance_ to tell Paul he wanted to do it again, they were so tired they just fell asleep straight away. _So no sex._

And now they were on a train filming scenes for their first feature movie. They’d be filming on the train for a week, and after the first day John already concluded filming was more tiring than making music. Not that they had a lot of hard work to do. That was not the problem. It was the waiting in between the takes that was so _boring._ And when John was _bored,_ he became _tired._ And when he was _tired,_ he wanted to _sleep._ But he couldn’t go to sleep after a day of filming, because they had to _rehearse_ the bloody scenes for the next day. On the other hand, it _was_ a new experience and they _did_ have a lot of fun as well. If only he could get Paul to fuck him again. But they had to get up early (for whatever reason filming always started early), so after rehearsing their lines for the next day, they all went to sleep. _So still no sex._

After a week of filming scenes on the train, they moved to Twickenham Studios. The first day there, they filmed the “I should have known better” sequence in a set built to resemble a train guard’s van. They had to mime to the song while technicians rocked the set to resemble a moving train. The filming took an entire day, starting at the unholy hour of 8am, which was ridiculously early according to John (and the others agreed with him) and when they were finally able to return home at 10pm John felt so nauseous from all the rocking, he couldn’t even _think about sex._

After two days at Twickenham, they moved to Gatwick Airport for two scenes. John loved the one where they went up in a helicopter, especially since they wore their shiny tight fitting grey suits, that looked so amazing on Paul. And since John didn’t have any sex for _two entire weeks,_ he had a lot of trouble not getting a hard-on every time he looked at Paul’s bum in those tight trousers. _He really needed some good sex!_

***

Paul discovered he wasn’t very good at acting. Yeah, miming to songs was okay, he could do that; as long as there was music, he felt free enough to move and smile. But _without music......._ Saying lines without music, lines that were _not his own,_ pretending to be someone that _was him, but not really him,_ felt weird. It stiffened him and therefore the lines he had to say came out _cramped,_ even though he knew them all by heart. Even his own movements felt _unnatural_ to him.

And then there was _John......_ John who constantly looked at him with love sick eyes. John who constantly touched him: a hand on his thigh, a hand on his lower back, a hand on his shoulder. Not that Paul didn’t like that. _Of course he did._ He loved it when John touched him. But at the same time it made him feel very uncomfortable. _What if someone noticed?_ There were so many people working on the film, somebody was bound to see John’s affectionate looks and touches, and what would happen then? They couldn’t afford anybody finding out about them!

So Paul was feeling rather frustrated, especially since he hadn’t been able to make love to John for two weeks now. Fucking John had been an amazing experience. One he absolutely wanted to relive again (but only if John wanted it too, of course). But there hadn’t been an opportunity for them to do so, with their busy schedule. As a matter of fact, they hadn’t even found the time for a blowjob or even a quick hand job.

And John looked _so good_ today in his shiny, tight fitted grey suit, running towards the helicopter! And he looked _so delicious_ with the wind blowing his hair in all directions while running up and down the helicopter pad for that other scene they were filming, fooling around. Well, of course John _always_ looked good. _In everything. Or without anything._ Better even _without anything_ on. Paul sighed. He missed making love to John. Making love to John always made him relaxed, especially when he was so high strung as he was now. If only they could find the time. _He really needed some good sex!_

***

And then they had the weekend off. _The whole bloody weekend!_ Too bad George and Ringo had the weekend off _as well...... And_ decided to spend it at Green Street, playing Monopoly and cards. _And_ watching westerns on television. _All day long. And_ eating Chinese take away. _And_ Indian. _And_ wanted John and Paul to join them. Till late at night. _Friday night. And_ Saturday night. _And_ Sunday night. So when they finally managed to escape George and Ringo’s stranglehold on them after a long day and night playing games, they still couldn’t make love freely, afraid George and Ringo would hear them. They had managed a quick hand job, just enough to release the worst of the stress out of their bodies, but both of them wanted more. _So much more......_

When they returned to Twickenham on Monday morning, John, Paul and George found out they weren’t needed on the set that day, since they would only be filming Ringo’s solo sequence. So the three of them had the day off. George decided to go to a Cilla Black radio show with, _wait for it,_ Brian! John and Paul were rather flabbergasted George decided to go _anywhere alone_ with Brian, being so homophobic, but truth to be told, they couldn’t care less at that moment. With both George and Ringo out of the way, they would have their Green Street apartment for themselves!

They didn’t waste _any time_ going back there, and attacked each other’s lips as soon as the door was closed. Feverishly they started to undress, hands grabbing at each other’s bodies, not waiting until they were in the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind throughout the apartment. And then they were in bed, touching, kissing, grabbing, caressing, sucking, licking....... _desperately,_ like two men in the dessert, who finally found some life saving water after almost dying from thirst.

“Paul, please, I want you to take me again. I _need_ you to take me again. You have _no idea_ how much I’ve been longing for it! It’s been so frustrating, seeing you parade around in those tight trousers day after day, babe, and not being able to do anything remotely sexual with you. I really, _really_ want you to take me, bunny. God Paul, please take me, take me now! I want to you so bad, it’s driving me mad!”

Paul kissed John’s neck feverishly, leaving a mark there. “God, John, I thought my cock was going to shrivel off! I don’t think I’ve ever gone without sex _for so long_ before. Always something coming between us. I even thought about locking ourselves in the closet at the studio for a quickie! I want you so much, Johnny, so, so much! So where’s the lube? You better get yourself ready for my body gun, Johnny boy, I’m gonna fuck you like a rabbit!” John threw back his head and moaned deeply as he felt Paul’s fingers enter him. “That’s it, my little bunny!” This is what he wanted. This is what he needed. And now he was getting it. _Finally!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it finally happened! Not once but twice!  
> In the next chapter, John will meet someone from his past. Would you like to know who? Check in next Tuesday to find out!


	61. A GHOST FROM THE PAST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> The boys are filming their first motion picture, as somebody from John's past turnes up. And Paul's on the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

The next two weeks were spent filming their movie. And in between they were filming performances for “Ready, Steady, Go!” and “Top of the Pops” which meant they hardly had any time off. They were working so hard, days tuned into nights without them noticing it. 

John’s book “In His Own Write” was published on 23 March. John had always been writing funny short stories, reading them to Paul when they were on the road, causing him to have laughing fits. Paul didn’t write stories himself, mainly occupying himself playing his acoustic guitar or banging out old standards on the piano when one was available, in his spare time. He really liked John’s stories, though, and had told him he should publish them in a book.

At first John didn’t want to do that, thinking he shouldn’t stray from the band, certainly not when they were so successful right now, but Paul kept telling him to do it anyway. “Your stories are so hilarious, John, you really should share them with the world. And now is the perfect time to do it, now you’ve already reached fame and established a name for yourself.” And so John had finally decided to publish his stories and Paul had written a lovely preface for the book. The publication of his book did mean he had to do some promotional work for it, which meant he had even less time to spend with Paul.

A few days later, they found themselves at Madame Tussaud’s, the wax museum that had decided they were famous enough to be immortalised. So now they were standing in a museum! Well, the wax versions of themselves. As John stood next to the wax figure of Paul, he contemplated taking the dummie home. Just imagine, being in bed with _two gorgeous Pauls!_

***

Filming continued throughout March. The schedule was tight, but they did have the occasional day off. John and Paul usually told George and Ringo to spend such a day elsewhere, so they could do some “song writing” alone in their apartment without being disturbed. They didn’t think George and Ringo would appreciate being around to see their “song writing” anyway.

April Fool’s was spend filming and joking around, causing their director, Richard Lester, to throw up his hands in despair after another joke by one of the boys, that messed up the scene they were supposed to play, because they were all lying on the floor laughing their heads off. So when Brian sent a car to collect John after phoning him, telling his father was down at the NEMS office and wanted to see him, John thought it was another April Fool’s joke.

It wasn’t. Alfred Lennon, known as Alf, John’s long lost father, who left him when he was just 5 years old, had decided it was time to meet his son. “I don’t think I want to see him, Paul.” John confessed. “He didn’t want to see me for almost 20 years, took no interest in me at all, and now, when I’m famous, he suddenly wants to get to know me? He’s probably just after my money. I’m not going.”

“But John! He’s your father! You don’t know what he wants until you talk to him. Maybe he’s sincere and really does want to get to know you. You shouldn’t miss out on a chance to get to know your dad, John. Maybe you can finally build a relationship with him, you never know. You might regret it forever if you don’t give it a chance, Johnny. Please go.”

“Are you coming with me, then? I really don’t want to face him alone” John pleaded. “If you want me to, I’ll come with you, John, you know I will. But don’t you think it’s better you first see him alone after all this time? Without a stranger present?” “You're not a stranger, baby." "I am to him, Johnny." John shook his head. "Well, I'm a stranger to him as well, aren't I? And what if I get angry and say the wrong things? I really need you by my side for this, Paul. ”

***

So an hour or so later, they found themselves at the NEMS office and John was reunited with his father. “What do you want?” was the first thing John said to the man that slightly resembled him, as Paul noticed. The same piercing eyes. That didn’t seem like a very good way to start a conversation with a father you hadn’t seen in ages, however. Better smooth things over a little bit. “Hello Mr. Lennon, I’m John’s friend, Paul McCartney.” Paul stepped up to Alfred Lennon, shaking the man’s hand. “Ah, the writing partner, aren’t you? Nice to meet you.” “It’s sure nice to meet you too, sir. John is really thrilled to see you, aren’t you John? It’s been such a long time, after all.”

“Yeah, a fuckin’ long time. I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve come looking for me, now that I’m famous, but I guess I am anyway. So, what do you want?” John didn’t feel like being nice and polite like his partner was. He didn’t believe for one minute that his father was here to get to know him better; if that’s what he wanted, he would have done so years ago, wouldn’t he? He didn’t really feel like talking to the man at all.

“I’m your father, John, and I just would like to get to know you better. I haven’t seen you for so long.” “Well, that’s not exactly my fault, is it now? I had no idea where you were, whereas you always knew how to find me. Never came to see me, not even after Julia died. And now I’m rich and famous, you suddenly want to get to know me? You suddenly decide to reappear like a ghost from the past?”

Paul, realizing things were not going well at all, decided to step in again. “It’s been a long and tiring day, Mr. Lennon. Maybe this is not the right time and place for a reunion. What about making an appointment to see each other in a more relaxed environment, like a pub or something, when we have a day off? When is our next day off, John?”

“I have no bloody idea when we get a day off, _if_ we even get a day off. You’re the one who always has the diary in his head. For as far as I know we’ll be filming for the rest of the whole damn month.” Paul shook his head. “Nah, we finish filming at the twenty-fourth, but I believe we’ve got some radio and television shows planned for the end of the month. I do think we have a day off somewhere before that, I believe so anyway. Let me just check with Brian’s secretary. You two be nice to each other until I’m back, alright?”

***

It turned out they had a day off a week from today, so Paul arranged for Alf and John to meet at the Bush Pub on Goldhawk Road, on the corner by the BBC TV Theatre, on that day.

“I don’t know, Paul” John sighed, his head resting on Paul’s chest that night, while he played with the dark hair there, that made his lover look so sexy. Paul had one arm wrapped around him, while the fingers of his other hand ran through John’s hair, softly scratching his skull. It felt perfect. “If he really wants to get to know me, if he’s really sincere, then I think I’d like to get to know him. He is my father after all. But I’m so afraid the only reason he’s contacted me, is my fame. And my money. I’m so afraid he’s just after my money. I don’t think I want to be involved with him if that’s the case. But how will I be able to find out what his true motives are?”

Paul softly kissed his hair. “I understand what you’re saying, Johnny. Maybe you just should hope for the best? Just talk to him and see if you like each other? This might be your only chance to establish a relationship with your dad. I know how important a dad can be, John. Maybe you should just grab this chance and see how it goes?”

“I don’t know, Paulie. What if I get my hopes up, only to find out later that he’s just in it for the money anyway? I’m not sure I could cope with the disappointment” John sighed. “What am I gonna do?”

Paul now nuzzled his hair and then planted another kiss on his forehead. Paul always knew how to make him relax. “Don’t you worry about it, darling, I’ll think of a way to find out what his real intentions are, I promise. Now let’s go to sleep. We have to get up early again tomorrow and I don’t want dark circles around my eyes when we’re filming.” John chuckled. “Oh, you’re so vain......” “No I’m not!” “Yes you are! But you don’t have to worry, baby. Even with dark circles around your eyes, your smile will still make you the most beautiful man on the set. Your smile and lots of make-up.” “John!”

***

“You’re ill today, John” Paul said as he put on his coat. A week had passed since Alf had suddenly turned up, and today was the day when he and John were supposed to meet at the pub. “Ill? I’m not ill, what are you talking about?” Paul smiled at John who was lounging on the sofa, socked feet resting on the coffee table, hair still a mess, reading “Alice in Wonderland” for the umpteenth time. “And where are you going? We have the day off, remember?” Paul put on a hat and his fake moustache. “You’re supposed to meet your father today, don’t you remember? But you can’t, because you’re ill.”

“Shit I’ve totally forgotten about that. Must have blocked it from my mind. I’d better get myself ready then” John sighed. He wanted to stand up from the comfy couch, but Paul told him to stay put. “You’re ill, John, you can’t keep the appointment with your dad today. So I’ll go instead, explaining to him you’re not well.” John looked at him with a confused look. Paul smiled. The man looked utterly sweet this way. “I’m going to see Alf in the pub instead of you, Johnny, and I will try to find out what his intentions are. Remember, I promised you I’d find a way to do so. So that’s my plan. You’re ill, I meet Alf instead and try to find out if he has alternative motives. You just keep reading your book, love, and I want you to cite your favourite passage when I return. Not that I don’t already know what it is......” He walked over to John and planted a kiss on his messy hair. “See you later, Johnny.” John grabbed his hands and kissed them. “Thanks baby. Thank you so much.”

***

Paul saw Alf sitting in a dark corner of the pub, a large pint in front of him, and strolled over to him. “Good afternoon, Mr. Lennon.” The man looked up to him. “Who are you then, and how come you know my name?” Paul sat down across from him. “Hey, I didn’t invite you to sit with me. I’m waiting for my appointment to arrive.” Paul smiled. “Yes, I know. You’re waiting for John. I’m afraid I have to disappoint you. He’s not coming today. He’s fallen ill. I came here to tell you so.” Paul removed his fake moustache and hat. “Paul McCartney, remember?”

“Oh, hello, Paul. I didn’t recognize you. Do you always go around in disguise?” Paul nodded. “Yeah, if we want to go somewhere without hordes of fans chasing us, that’s what we need to do these days. So John’s not coming, he’s really sorry, he was looking forward to talking to you, but nothing to be done about it.“ Alf seemed to be disappointed that he was not going to meet John. A good sign maybe? “So since I’m here anyway, and since you’re here already enjoying your pint, maybe I could join you? So much nicer to share a drink than drinking alone, isn’t it?”

Paul waved at the waiter. “Could I have a large pint, please, and......” he saw Alf quickly finishing his own drink. “and another one for my mate here.” He smiled at Alf. “That is, if you want another one?” “Yeah, thanks, much appreciated.” “So, Alf, eh.....do you mind me calling you Alf?” Paul summoned up his uttermost innocent puppy-dog eyes, turning up his charm to a maximum level, knowing very well that people weren’t able to resist him anything he wanted when he did so. “Sure, no problem. So you’re the one who writes the songs with my son, then?” “Yeah, we write together. Have been doing so for years. I’ve known him since I was fourteen, so I know him pretty well.”

Their beers arrived and Alf grabbed his pint immediately. “Cheers, Paul.” Paul raised his glass as well. “Cheers, Alf. So where have you been hiding all this time? I know very little about you, just what John has told me, and he obviously doesn’t know a lot about you either. So, what have you done with your life in the past, what is it, seventeen or eighteen years or so?”

“Well, I’ve been around, you know. Many years at sea, quite adventurous, you know, Africa, Italy. Worked in a restaurant at Solihull for a couple of years. Now I’m working in a kitchen, washing dishes in a hotel in Hampton Court. Not exactly a glamorous job, but it pays the bills. Only just though, enough to pay the rent for my room and for food. Luckily I can get something to eat for free at the hotel most nights, so I have some money left to go to the pub sometimes to drink a pint. Speaking of which, do you mind if I order another one?”

Alf held up his empty glass. Paul only had a few sips of beer. He couldn’t afford to drink too much, he had to keep his head together. “Sure, I’ll order you another one” he replied. As Alf started on his third pint of the afternoon, they talked some more. That is, Alf talked and Paul listened. “And then suddenly my son’s name was all over the news. And people started pointing out to me that I was the father of The Famous Beatle John Lennon, and were starting to ask me all about him. Couldn’t tell them much, could I, since I hadn’t seen him for a few years......” “Seventeen years......” “Like a said, a few years. And here I was, cleaning dishes for a few lousy quid, while my son was a world famous and wealthy musician.”

Alf gulped down his beer and waved his hand at the waiter. “Another one of these. You want another one too, Paul?” “No, thanks, I haven’t finished mine yet, Alf.” “Just one pint then.” Alf turned his attention to Paul again. “So, me mates started telling me that John probably was very rich, selling all those records, going to America and such. And it just didn’t sound right, did it.” Alf took another gulp of his pint that had just arrived. “Me working for a few bob while my son lives in luxury. I’ve been told he’s already a millionaire. Is that true?”

“Well we’re earning quite well, but I don’t think we’re millionaires yet. We have worked very hard for years, with little wages, but our hard work is paying off now. So, yeah, we can afford ourselves some luxury, but we also work like dogs, you know. Not much time left to spend our money.”

“Your parents must be proud, I guess” Alf said, just when he was finishing his beer. God that man could drink. “Another one, Alf?” “I don’t say “no” to that, son.” Paul finished his own beer and ordered two more pints. “My mum died years ago. But my dad is still alive. And he indeed is very proud of what I achieved. I’m sure you are very proud of your son as well.” Alf started on his fifth beer and started to sound a bit slurred. “Yeah, who would have thought my son would become a millionaire. You seem like a decent young man to me. I bet you give your father money, don’t you? Maybe you can talk to my son, convince him his old man can use some quid as well.”

 _There we go,_ Paul thought. _Money. He wants money._ “Oh, I’m convinced John will give you some money when he finds out that you’re almost broke. I’m sure he doesn’t want his dad to live in poverty. So maybe you can ask him if you see each other next time. I’m sure he would love to see you when he feels better again.” “But when will that be? I kind of need the money right now, you know. Maybe you can ask him? I’m sure you can make him see that he has to provide for his old man.”

 _Has to provide for his old man?_ John didn’t _have_ to do anything! The man never provided for _him,_ had left his own son many, many years ago, never giving him a second thought. And now John was supposed to provide for him? “Oh, but I’m sure you would like to get to know John a bit first, don’t you? After all, you haven’t seen him for so long, I’m sure you’re dying to get to know him. He’s a really great guy, you know. And I think it’s better if you ask him yourself, about the money, that is. I’m sure we can arrange for another meeting. I think we have another day off in two months or so.”

“Two months? I kind of need the money now, you know.” “I really think you should get to know John first, establish some father-son relationship, I’m sure that’s what you want too, isn’t it?” “I don’t think a father-son relationship is necessary for him to share some of his wealth with his old man.”

 _Damned._ The man _was_ just after John’s money, just as John had feared. “So you would take his money without getting to know him? I don’t believe that for a minute.” “Well I’ve managed to live my life without him so far, so I’m sure I can continue to do so. Money, however, is something else. We all need money to live our lives, don’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So John has met his father for the first time in years. But are they going to establish a father-son relationship? Find out about it in the next chapter.


	62. THINGS WE SAID TODAY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John's father seems to be more interested in his money than in getting to know his son. How will they deal with that?And John and Paul enjoy a romantic holiday together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“So then I asked him, if he’d rather have some money than getting to know you. I hoped he’d say that wasn’t the case.” John looked grim. “I told you he was just after my money. Well, he’s not getting a single penny!”

Paul sighed. “I told him you wanted to meet him first, but that we didn’t have a day off for another two months. He said he needed the money now, and if you weren’t prepared to pay him, he’d go to the press with his sad story about how the rich and famous John Lennon’s father had to live in poverty.”

“Damned! I don’t think Brian will be too happy with such bad press. Jesus, I knew it would go like this! I knew it! So what am I gonna do now, Paul?”

Paul had returned to Green Street with a heavy heart. He had hoped Alf’s motives had been sincere. That he really wanted to get to know John. He had wanted John to have a relationship with his dad, knowing how important it was to have a loving father in your life. But it turned out that wouldn’t be the case.

“I asked him what it would take for him to disappear from your life. He said a nice house by the seaside and a good sum of money to live comfortably would do the trick. I said I supposed he’d rather establish a good relationship with you instead of disappearing from your life, but.......

“He’d rather have the money than me. Why doesn’t that surprise me. _Nobody_ wants me, after all. Nobody loves me.”

“That’s not true, John, and you know it. George likes you, Ringo likes you, Mimi likes you, Brian, George M., all the engineers at the EMI studios, everybody likes you. Millions of people around the world like you! _I_ like you. _I love you,_ for heaven’s sake! Don’t put yourself down, Johnny, that man’s not worth it. I’m so sorry, though. I hoped I would have been able to give you better news. I really hoped you would get your father back.”

“Well, I don’t think I want to see that bastard ever again!” “Then you will have to pay him, love. He’s not gonna disappear from your life if you don’t pay him off.” John groaned. “I don’t want to pay him, Paul. He doesn’t deserve it! What has he ever done for me?” Paul sighed. “I know, Johnny. He’s never done anything for you. But if you are sure you don’t want him in your life, I’m afraid paying him off is the only way to get rid of him. Are you sure you don’t want him in your life? You’ve got to be really sure about that, John, because if you pay him off, there will be no way back.”

“I want him out, Paul. I never want to see him again. So how are we going to arrange that? I really don’t want to see that man’s face ever again. I really don’t want to negotiate with him about what he wants or needs. He never ever thought about what I wanted or needed.” Paul took John’s hand and kissed it. “Don’t you worry about it, Johnny. I’ll contact Brian and we will work something out together. No need for you to get involved. We’ll make sure he’ll never bother you again.”

“You know, somehow I hoped......somehow I thought he might.......” John’s voice sounded strained, and suddenly he started sobbing. “Why can’t I have a father like Jim? I may not always liked him in the past, I didn’t always agree with him, but at least he loves you. Why can’t I have something like that?”

Paul hugged John close to his heart. “I don’t know why, Johnny. But you’ve got _me,_ I’m here for you, I love you. I know it’s not exactly the same as having a dad, I know I can never compensate the lack of a father, but what I _can do,_ is give you all the love I have in me. And I _will_ do that, love, for as long as you want me to. We’ve come so far together, I’m sure we can find our way somehow through this mess as well. Now let me go and give Brian a call, so we can settle this once and for all. So we can leave this ghost from the past behind.”

***

So Alf left John’s life just as fast as he had re-entered it, being set up in a nice cottage near Blackpool, and an allowance that made sure he could live a relatively good life, as long as he promised not to go to the press or tried to contact John again.

Paul still had hopes that Alf would change his mind and wanted to get to know John instead of just taking his boyfriend’s money, but his hopes turned out to be in vain. He felt sorry for John, because he really wanted John to establish at least some kind of relationship with his father, because he was so close to his own dad himself, but it wasn’t to be. John didn’t seem to be upset about it, though.

“I’ve lived without the man for all those years, I can live without him for the rest of my life as well. I don’t need somebody in my life that’s only interested in my money and not in me as a person. I’m glad he’s gone, although I still don’t think he deserves the cottage and the money I’ve given him. But at least he’ll stay away from me in the future. I’m so glad you found out about his true motives before I got myself involved in his life, baby. You’ve really saved me. Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Yes, you did, Johnny, but I never get tired of hearing those words. Well, I guess the chapter of Alfred Lennon is closed then. Time to move on with the rest of our lives.”

***

They finished filming their scenes for “A Hard Day’s Night” and did a couple of tv shows and suddenly found themselves without any commitments for almost the entire month of May. Ringo and his Liverpudlian girlfriend Maureen decided to take a holiday to the Virgin Islands together with George and his new girlfriend Patti. George had met her on the set of “A Hard Day’s Night” and they had hit it off instantly. Brian arranged for them to go there using false names, disguises and decoy routes.

But when John and Paul wanted to spend their holiday on Tahiti, they met with some resistance from their manager.”I don’t think it’s a very good idea, boys, the two of you spending a holiday together on a tropical island. If the press finds out about it, they may start wondering why you even spend your holiday together, when you already spend all of your time together, and in such a romantic place as well. I think you both should choose different destinations.”

“Well, Brian, I don’t care what you think. If John and I want to go to Tahiti together, then that’s exactly what we will do. Our free time is _our_ free time, and we can spend it any way we’d like to!”

“Well said, Macca! Come on Eppy, you can’t seriously expect us to spend our holiday without each other. That just wouldn’t do. I already get cranky if I spend a single day without Paul! So you’d better arrange for us to have the false names and escape routes and all those other spy-like things you’ve arranged for George and Ritchie. And if you don’t want the press to find out where we are, you’d better make sure you do a good job of it!”

***

So a few days later John and Paul found themselves on a boat, sailing the tropical waters of Tahiti, after spending two days at a deserted beach on Hawaii, where nobody seemed to know them.

The yacht they had hired, however, turned out to be more like an old fishing boat, that had recently been repainted. It smelled of paint and diesel, and the first day they sailed through some really rough waters, and they both got pretty seasick.

“God, John, you definitely didn’t inherit your father’s sea legs, did you?” Paul managed to say between puking. “Well, neither did you, Macca!” “My father wasn’t a sailor, John. But if he had been, I’m sure I would have inherited his sea legs. After all, I inherited his musicality, didn’t I?” “Jesus, I’m sick. Maybe we should sail back?” “I think we’re not very far from the next island, John, we can anchor there, I hope.......Oh Christ, here I go again!” Paul had to puke again and John soon followed. This was not exactly what they’d expected of a nice boat trip in the tropics.

By the time they reached the harbour of the island, they felt so ill, they immediately went to sleep in their bunk beds. Bunk beds. Like in Hamburg. Shit. Couldn’t they have rented a boat with a double bed? One that didn’t smell of paint and diesel oil? And that didn’t rock as much on the waves? They both agreed that this was not the way to spend their holiday, and that tomorrow, when they’d hopefully feel a bit better, they’d look for another way to spend their precious free time.

Next morning they didn’t only wake up to the most perfect sunny sky they’d ever seen, but to a scene that seemed to come from a movie set: a blue lagoon, a white beach, green coconut palms and Tahitians in colourful canoes, paddling across a calm sea. They loved it all, and decided to give their boat trip another try.

They went ashore, wearing big sunglasses, hoping nobody would recognize them. And much to their surprise, nobody did! Walking through the small village, filled with old fishermen, their faces wrinkly and sunburned, repairing their fishing nets; little shops where women in the most colourful dresses sat behind piles of deliciously smelling fresh fruit; children who ran barefoot across the street, playing soccer, while singing songs they didn’t recognize, John and Paul felt they had entered a different reality.

Strolling around the village they discovered a little shop selling necklaces with colourful beads, sunglasses that seemed totally out of date, t-shirts with “Tahiti” printed on it and all kinds of hats and baseball caps. They bought some large straw hats, that would not only keep their heads out of the already burning sun, but would also make them even more unrecognizable.

They ended up for lunch at a little terrace in front of some kind of restaurant made of rusty corrugated plates and that looked like it had been standing there for decades. The menu board standing outside was so faded by time and sunlight, they weren’t really able to read what was on offer. They did manage to read “Specialité de la maison.” That brought back memories of Paris and “escargots” making them both giggle at the thoughts of the unpleasant surprise of snails on their plates. They were definitely not going to try the “Specialité de la maison”!

Paul also managed to decipher “Salade de fruits”. So, thinking they possible couldn’t go wrong with a fruit salad, that’s what they ordered, together with a local beer. The beers turned out to be cold and refreshing, and the fruit salad, that consisted of slices of fresh, sweet pineapple, pieces of banana and chunks of coconut, was absolutely delicious. They had never tasted fruit so fresh. This was paradise!

***

The next few days they sailed from island to island, stopping on the way to go for a swim, or to snorkel. The captain pointed out all kind of fish to them, and the captain’s wife, who also sailed with them, made them a lovely meal every evening. Too bad about their sleeping arrangements. John had hoped for lots of sex, the anal kind especially, but that was definitely out of the question, since the captain and his wife were sleeping on the other side of the very thin wall that separated their bedrooms, and John and Paul were very vocal when they fucked. So a quick handjob every now and then, while hushing each other, was all they could manage.

Paul, of course got sunburned, his ivory complexion very prone to sunburn. The salt water on his skin didn’t help either. He went for endless swims, trying to get John to come with him, which John did every now and then, but it soon tired him while Paul seemed tireless. From underneath his straw head, reading a book on the deck, in the shadow of a parasol, he watched Paul crawl, dive and splash in the almost unnaturally blue seawater. So much energy that boy had, he smiled to himself. But then again, he was so much younger than him, at least 20 months!

When Paul was moaning and groaning about his sunburned shoulders, how he could hardly lie on them, how much they hurt, pitying himself, John couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s when you get if you stay in the sun for too long. I told you to stop swimming and join me on the deck, relaxing in the shadow, but no, you had to show off your swimming skills and your almost naked, wet body which, by the way, is gorgeous, but it comes with consequences. The one whose butt got burned has to sit on the blisters, baby.” “Good thing I kept my swimming trunks on then.”

***

Of course after a few days, both men got bored. Yes, the weather was lovely. Yes, the islands were gorgeous. Yes, the sea was beautiful. But one tends to get enough of too much of a good thing. Paul, especially, became restless. He regretted not taking a guitar with him, since his fingers were itching to pluck some strings and his head was filled with tunes. He tried to read some of the books that the captain had available, but he wasn’t such a bookworm like John was, and the melodies in his head got in the way of concentrating on what he was reading.

So before they took off for the open sea again one morning, Paul decided to search for a music shop at the small harbour village. And low and behold: he actually found one! Not that they sold a lot of instruments, mainly percussion instruments really, but there was also a cheap guitar for sale.

Upon his return to their boat, and after having left the harbour, Paul went downstairs to work on the song that he’d been hearing in his head for days now, as John settled on the deck again with another Sherlock Holmes book. He strummed the chords, wrote down the lyrics that went with them, but after an hour or so, the smell of paint and diesel oil, together with the soft rocking of the boat, made him feel nauseous. He decided to sit on the small front deck to finish the song, so he wouldn’t disturb John, who had by now fallen asleep on the larger aft deck, his book forgotten on his lap. He snored a little bit, and his mouth was slightly ajar, but he looked so peaceful, it made Paul smile. His adorable Johnny.

***

“Wanna hear my song then?” Paul asked later that afternoon. “You’ve finished it already?” “Well, it might need some editing, you know, your magic touch, but it’s basically done.” “Well, take it away then.”

_You say you will love me  
If I have to go  
You'll be thinkin' of me  
Somehow I will know  
Someday when I'm lonely  
Wishing you weren't so far away  
Then I will remember  
Things we said today_

__

_You say you'll be mine, love  
Till the end of time  
These days such a kind, love  
Seems so hard to find  
Someday when we're dreaming  
Deep in love, not a lot to say  
Then we will remember  
Things we said today_

__

_Love to hear you speak your mind  
Love to hear you say that love is luck  
And, though we may be blind  
Love is here to stay and that's enough_

__

_To make you mine, love  
Be the only one  
Love me all the time, love  
We'll go on and on  
Someday when we're dreaming  
Deep in love, not a lot to say  
Then we will remember  
Things we said today_

__

Paul looked at John to see his reaction, and saw the man looking at him with a pondering look on his face. “You don’t really need me at all, do you?” Paul raised his eyebrows. “What on earth do you mean by that?” “To write a song. You can do it all on your own. A perfect song.” “You like it then?”

John sighed. “Of course I do, it’s beautiful. Especially the way you go from C and F to B Flat, where normally you’d expect F minor. Really good turn. But that’s what I mean, you don’t need me at all, the melody is just perfect, I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

“Maybe the melody doesn’t need any changes, but I’m not so sure about the words, Johnny. I really need you to help me out there. I think the lines _“Love to hear you speak your mind. Love to hear you say that love is luck”_ need some working on. I mean, both lines start the same, I don’t really like that, but I couldn’t come up with anything better.” John grabbed the piece of paper Paul had written down his lyrics on. “No, you’re right, that won’t do. Let me see…….what about…….. _”Me I’m just the lucky kind. Love to hear you say that love is luck.”_ “Right! That’s it! Let me write it down. I told you I needed your help.” He crossed out the first line and started writing the new lyrics down. 

“And while you’re at it, you should change the word “love” to “girl” in the first and third line of the second and third verse. You also use the word “love” in the sixth line and in the third verse you also say “love me all the time love.” A bit too much “love” for one song, you know.”

“See, that’s what I mean when I say I really need your help with the lyrics. It should be “boy” instead of “girl” though, since the song is about you. But I guess that won’t do.” Paul was scratching out words, replacing them with John’s suggestions. “Really, it’s about me?” 

Paul looked up at his partner. “Don’t tell me you ever doubted that. All my love songs are written for you, Johnny.” John smiled back with a touch of shyness. “Do you really think that we’ll still be in love years from now, looking back on this holiday with fondness?” “I’m sure we will, John. And by the way, there can _never_ be too much love in a song…….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too bad holidays have to come to an end. The next chapter will have the boys returing to work again.


	63. THE WORLD TOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> The boys are about to embark on their first world tour when disaster strikes. And during the tour, strange things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

In June, just before they would start their world tour, that would take them to Denmark, The Netherlands, Hong Kong, New Zealand and Australia, all countries they had not visited before (well, except for The Netherlands, the country that they had crossed on their way to Hamburg, and where John had nicked a harmonica in Arnhem) they recorded some songs for the B-side of the ‘A Hard Day’s Night” album, including “Things we said today”, the song Paul had written during their boat trip. John loved the song, and Paul nailed it in two takes.

And then disaster struck. The day before they were leaving for Denmark, the first stop on their tour, Ringo fell ill. And not just a little bit either. He was taken to hospital with a severe case of tonsillitis and pharyngitis and complete bed rest was ordered. 

“We’ll have to cancel the tour, Brian, nothing to be done about it” John said from his chair at the table he was sitting at the NEMS office, together with Paul and both Georges in a rushed meeting. “We can’t cancel now, John. The tour starts tomorrow, it’s too late to cancel. It would cost us dearly.” “But we have to cancel, we can hardly perform without a drummer, can we now?” Brian sighed. “I know it’s hard, but the shows must go on as scheduled, even without Ringo.” Paul raised his eyebrows. “Come off it, Brian! We can’t perform without a drummer!” 

“I agree you need a drummer, boys” George Martin addressed the young men. “So I suggest you use a session drummer for the shows until Ringo is well enough to return. I can set you up with one today, so you can practice your stage repertoire.”

John saw Paul’s eyebrows almost fly off his forehead. “A session drummer? Did you just suggest we’d replace Ringo with some session drummer we don’t know? No way! We’re a band, the four of us, not just four individuals who can easily be replaced by strangers. That’s ridiculous! I’m not going anywhere without Ringo!” John and George completely agreed with Paul, but Brian and George Martin kept telling them there was no other way, that they would lose a lot of money, _a whole damned lot of money,_ if they cancelled now.

So a rehearsal was hastily arranged with a drummer by the name of Jimmy Nicol. They only had an hour to run through the songs, since they were scheduled to do some finishing work on a few songs for “A Hard Day’s Night” before the start of their tour, since they wouldn’t be back for a month and the film was to premiere early July. The session lasted till 9pm. After which John, Paul and George went back to Green Street to pack their things, since they were leaving for Denmark first thing in the morning. Without Ringo.

***

Thousands of Danish fans greeted them at the airport and lined the streets on the way to their hotel. They had a rehearsal with Jimmy in the afternoon and played two shows that night. And even though Jimmy performed well, it just wasn’t the same without Ringo. “I still don’t agree with all of this, Johnny” Paul said when they returned to their hotel late at night. “I’ve got nothing against Jimmy, he’s an alright guy, but just the thought that Brian is willing to replace one of us that easily………It just doesn’t feel right.” “I completely agree with you, baby. We shouldn’t have had Brian and George Martin steamroll all over us. I’m not going to let anything like this ever happen again.” Paul hummed in agreement. “Let’s make a vow that none of us will ever be replaced, no matter what Brian says, okay?”

After arriving at the hotel, Paul sent a telegram to Ringo, saying: _“Didn’t think we could miss you so much. Get well soon.”_

***

Next morning they flew to Amsterdam, where they were given traditional Dutch hats and wooden shoes. They filmed a tv appearance in the afternoon. Members of the audience asked questions in Dutch and those were translated for them by the tv show’s host.

They were amazed by the ridiculous questions their fans asked. And by the clumsy translations. When the host asked them who mended their _stockings_ while they were on tour, they looked at each other with puzzled expressions on their faces. _Stockings?_ They didn’t wear _stockings!_ Stockings were for girls! Then Paul doubled up in laughter. _“Socks!_ He means _socks!”_ Stupid question. Like there would be anybody mending their socks. They just bought a pair of new ones.

During their performance, while miming to ”Long Tall Sally”, a few members of the audience suddenly got on stage to dance. John and Paul exchanged a puzzled look. Surely that wasn’t supposed to happen? During the next songs even more fans got to the stage and soon the boys were completely surrounded by the public. Mal and Neil tried to get the audience off the stage, but their efforts were in vain, and John, Paul and George left the stage instead, leaving Jimmy on his own sitting behind his drums.

That evening they visited “De Wallen”, Amsterdam’s infamous Red Light District, escorted by the police. George and Jimmy disappeared in one of the whore houses, while John and Paul attended a porn movie. It was a gay porn movie that left them both quite horny, so upon their return to their hotel in the early hours of the morning, they made love passionately.

Next day, before playing two shows in an auction hall in Blokker, they toured the canals of Amsterdam in a glass topped boat. Amsterdam was really beautiful, with all the canals, picturesque bridges and the old houses with their typical facades shaped like clocks and steps. It was something they had never seen before, and they really loved the experience. At one point John whispered in Paul’s ear “This is so romantic, I wish I was doing this alone with you.” 

Paul gave him one of his sunny smiles that always made John’s heart flutter. “I know what you mean, Johnny. But I guess we’ll just have to enjoy it together with the others. Never knew Amsterdam was so beautiful, though. I wish we had time to go to the Rijksmuseum to see Rembrandt’s “Nightwatch” but I suppose that’s just wishful thinking. Maybe we should revisit Amsterdam together if we have a few days off? Hey, just look at that!”

Fans had been lining up along the canals and they were standing on every bridge they sailed underneath. The police officer that was in charge of their safety that day, had told them that at least 50,000 people had come to see them. And now one of them had jumped off one of those bridges and was swimming across the canal, trying to reach their boat. Soon a few others followed, causing John, Paul and George to burst out in laughter and encouraging the fans to swim faster to reach their boat, but the police made sure they were captured before they did. Jimmy just watched it all in disbelieve.

There was a little hick-up when they decided to get some sleep in their dressing room in between their two shows. After all, it had been a very, very late night the night before. Somehow Brian had forgotten to mention that they were supposed to make an appearance at a reception held in their honour at a local restaurant, as well as visiting a typical Dutch village, so them not showing up pissed the Dutch off a bit.

“We really should tell Brian to be more punctual. He should inform us better on the things that are planned for us. We can’t go pissing everybody off when we don’t even know we’re pissing them off. I’d like to know about it when I’m pissing someone off. I for one, would have loved to visit that village, to do some sightseeing. I don’t mind missing the reception though” Paul told the others. “I totally agree with you, Macca” John said. “One of these days his lack of information to us might piss off the wrong people and that could even get us into a lot of trouble!” 

***

The next day they took a plane to Hong Kong. They had never been to the Far East before and were pretty excited about it. Of course they hadn’t realized it would take them over 24 hours to get there. They had to make stops in Zürich, Beirut, Karachi, Calcutta and Bangkok for refueling, and at each airport hundreds and hundreds of fans were waiting to catch a glimpse of them.

In Beirut the police used fire fighting foam to hold back hundreds of fans that invaded the runway; in Karachi Paul had to be rescued by the police when he was mobbed by a horde of fans when he tried to buy souvenirs for his dad and Mike at the airport. John told him to never go out there alone again, he could have been killed and if it came to killing Paul, only he was allowed to do so. In Bangkok they had to step out of the plane and sign autographs to satisfy the 1000 fans that blocked the runway, otherwise their plane wouldn’t be able to take off. It was complete madness. And they hadn’t even reached their destination yet!

But even though the flight took so long, they had a lot of fun. They sat on the floor, playing cards, drinking Scotch and Coke, taking Prellies, telling jokes, and at one point John and Paul even engaged in a pillow fight. And underneath the pile of pillows they had thrown at each other, they managed to steal some quick kisses. The Prellies kept them wide awake and they touched down in Hong Kong before they knew it. 

***

Brian had booked them on the fifteenth floor of The Presidential Hotel. They were exhausted and jet- lagged, and even though they were expected to attend the Miss Hong Kong pageant, they opted for staying at their suites and get some much needed sleep. That is, George and Jimmy did. John and Paul had other intentions.

Their suite came with a large, round whirlpool bath, and they decided to have some fun in there before going to sleep. The warm bubbles made them feel very relaxed, and as a result of that, their love making in the water was very slow and sensual, both men taking their time to explore the other one’s body, nibbling, licking, caressing, touching, kissing, whispering sweet nothings, until they were so aroused they hardly needed more than a few strokes to reach their climaxes.

Lying in their bed afterwards, completely relaxed in each other’s embrace, Paul brought up that afternoon’s press conference at the airport. “You’d think those reporters would do some research before asking us questions, wouldn’t you? At least two or three of them asked about our mothers coming along on tour. I find that to be really painful, you know. I wish my mum would be able to come and see me play. I never really know how to react to questions like those, always afraid I might choke up.”

“Yeah, I know. The stupid bastards. They think they’re so clever and know all about you, yet they don’t bother to find out about our mums. I just laugh it off with a joke, but it’s like being stabbed to the heart over and over again. I could see how much it hurt you as well. Your eyes always tell, even though you laugh it off too. Funny isn’t it, how you never get used to it.”

“Yeah, sometimes I expect to see her face when I hear a door opening, only to be disappointed when she’s not there. But at the same time, I sometimes struggle to remember what she looked like, how her voice sounded, what she smelled like. It makes me afraid that one day I won’t remember her at all. And I don’t ever want to forget her. Sometimes I see her in my dreams, you know, and she seems so real then. And I wonder how she would feel about me now, if she would be proud of me. And it just hurts to know she’d never got to see how successful I’ve become, that she’ll never see me perform. And then some idiot asks such a stupid question……”

“Maybe we could ask Brian if he can instruct the press not to ask about our mothers? You know, I dream about Julia too sometimes, her long red hair, how she loved to dance and sing. I’m so glad that at least she got to know you. She really liked you, you know. And somehow I think she might have known what I felt for you. Remember how you used to sing “Love me tender” for her? She told me you had such a lovely voice, and I remember feeling jealous because you were singing it for her instead of for me.”

“Yeah she was really great, loved all the right music as well. I’m sure she would have loved The Beatles and would have been so proud of you. I think she would have been our biggest fan. Sometimes I wish you could have met my mum, although I think she would have preferred me to become a teacher or a doctor. ” 

“You’ve told me so much about her, love, I feel like I _do_ know her. And even though she might have envisioned another career for you, I think she would have been incredibly proud of what you’ve achieved, baby. And as for Julia being our biggest fan? I don’t think _anyone_ can top your dad!”

Paul chuckled. “Yeah, he’s taken it upon himself to answer _all_ the fan mail. He’s even got Mike to help him with it. Poor boy. And he invites all those girls, standing in front of our place constantly, in for a cup of tea because he feels sorry for them. And Mike says he brags to the whole street about me being so successful. Bit embarrassing that. I wonder if he ever talks to Mr. Maxwell about me…….”

Suddenly it felt like the temperature had dropped several degrees. Paul shivered and John felt his blood run cold. “Don’t think about him, darling, he’s not worth taking up any space in that beautiful mind of yours. Let’s just focus on the good things, like, do you think you’re ready for another round?”

John wiggled his eyebrows mischievously and Paul chuckled. “Am _I_ ready for another round? When am I ever _not_ ready for another go, Johnny? The real question is: are _you_ up to it? After all, I don’t know if you got the stamina for a second round, being _so much older_ than me.” They didn’t get to sleep until over an hour later.

***

They didn’t get the chance to see anything of Hong Kong. After their two shows, they were directly escorted back to their hotel, since everybody thought it would be too dangerous outside for them with all the fans around. So they found themselves locked up on the fifteenth flour, drinking some Scotch and Coke, talking to Jimmy and missing Ringo.

Next morning they took a flight to Sydney, Australia. Somehow it hadn’t registered to any of them that it would actually be winter in Australia, it being on the Southern Hemisphere. It was cold and the rain was pouring down. But instead of being driven to their hotel in a comfortable limo, an open flat back truck was waiting for them. They had to stand on it while the driver drove them, at an alarmingly slow pace of one mile per hour (because the thousands of screaming girls that lined the streets had been standing there for 24 hours, so they’d better get a good look of their heroes) and they were supposed to wave, holding up umbrellas that didn’t manage to keep them for getting soaking wet.

When they’d finally managed to reach their hotel, and after changing into some dry clothes, John sat down on the coach and grumbled: “That was horrible. It felt like we were some kind of monkeys on display in a zoo.” George, wearing a bathrobe because his suitcase hadn’t arrived yet, was furious. “I’m gonna give Brian a piece of my mind about this. I’m a human being, not some kind of animal! They can’t treat us like that! We might all get pneumonia.” 

George turned his attention to Paul, who remained strangely silent and was looking down at his hands that he was fiddling nervously. “You haven’t said a thing yet. Don’t you agree with us, Paul?” Paul looked up at George, distress on his face. Then he looked at John and back at George again. “Didn’t you see what happened with that child?” “What child?” George replied. “ I’ve been too busy holding on to my umbrella and waving like I was the Queen, feeling absolutely stupid. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Some woman threw _her child_ at me, a disabled kid, six years old or something. She shouted at me to catch him and _heal_ him. She wanted me _to heal_ him! She just _threw_ him at me! _Her child!_ Thank God I managed to catch him or he might have fallen between the wheels of the truck otherwise. The poor boy was terrified. Poor little bugger, mentally handicapped he was. Neil took the little boy out of my hands, jumped off the truck and handed him back to his mother. But……Jesus, she just _threw_ him at me, shouting I should _heal_ him! What on earth is happening to us?”

John shook his head in disbelieve. “I didn’t notice that, Macca. Like George said, I was trying to keep out of the rain, but the wind kept catching my umbrella. I did wonder what happened to your umbrella.” “It was either holding on to my umbrella, keeping my hair dry, or catching the child. I figured the child was more important than my hair. I still can’t believe it really happened. That poor little boy. She wanted me to _heal_ him.” 

John and George both looked at Paul, who looked totally defeated. “It’s really shaken you, hasn’t it? God, what did that mother _think?”_ George sat down next to his friend, squeezing his shoulder softly in a comforting way. John stood up, walked over to the window and looked down at the immense crowd of fans that stood in front of the hotel. “I think the whole world has gone completely mad. They actually seem to think that _The Beatles are Jesus.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They discover the world has gone mad.....And the tour hasn't even come to an end yet, so there's more to come.


	64. THE WORLD HAS GONE MAD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> As their world tour continues, they more and more realize the world around them really has gone crazy. And once back home John and Paul make an important decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

In Adelaide they got a reception that even they hadn’t seen before. All along the route from the airport to the city centre, stood thousands of fans to greet them. And when the police officer in charge told them that actually 200.000 to 300.000 people came to see them, they all looked at each other in disbelieve. “Looks like the whole of Australia have come to see us. The world indeed has gone completely crazy!” John muttered, shaking his head.

A couple of days later, in Melbourne, Ringo rejoined them. “Man I’ve missed you!” Paul exclaimed, hugging their drummer tightly. “It’s just not the same without you.” “Missed you guys too. It was so weird arriving on the plane alone. I kept looking over my shoulder expecting to see your ugly faces! And by the way, thanks for the telegram, Paul. Meant a lot to me.” 

“Well Ritchie, you can say a lot about us, but Paulie here’s not exactly ugly!” John ruffled Paul’s hair. “Hey stop it, you’re messing up my hair!” “Ah, messing up your perfect mop top, am I now? The one you spent hours combing to perfection this morning?” George decided to put in his two cents “You do know you spend twice the amount of time of us in front of a mirror, don’t you? Just so all the girls faint when they see you?” “What is this, Pick-On-Paul-Day or something? Ritchie, help me!” Paul tried to hide from John and George behind Ringo’s back. “Well, it’s good to see nothing has changed!” Ringo laughed. It was good being back together again.

***

The shows in Melbourne were followed by concerts in Sydney. It was good playing with Ringo again. Paul did feel a bit guilty they hadn’t said goodbye to Jimmy properly. They had slept late after a night of celebrating Ringo’s return, and Jimmy had already left for England when they awoke.

After one of their Sydney shows, back at their hotel, John was grumbling. “They didn’t even fuckin’ listen to you when you told them to stop throwing those fuckin’ jellybeans. I think you’re losing your touch, Macca.” Paul had stopped that night’s show twice, asking the audience to stop throwing the candy, but every time he had asked, the bombardment of those hard, sticky sweets had only increased in ferocity. It felt like a hailstorm and they stuck to their boots. “I don’t think I can ever see another jellybean in my life! George can’t you release a statement that you’ve gone completely off jellybeans? Maybe they’ll finally stop throwing them at us.” 

“Why should I tell them to stop throwing them, Paul? Why would they listen to me if they don’t even listen to you?” “I’m not saying you should tell them to stop during one of our shows, Geo, you should release an official statement that you don’t like jellybeans anymore. After all, you saying you liked them has caused this bloody candy been thrown at us at every fuckin’ show, wherever we go. It’s absolutely horrific!” “Hey, I never said I liked _jellybeans,_ I said I liked _jelliebabies._ They’re much softer then jellybeans. It’s not my fault those bloody Americans don’t know the difference, and that this craziness has spread across the entire world!” “Well, you’d better watch your mouth in the future, Harrison” John said. “Before you know it they’ll be throwing chickenwings at us when they find out that’s your favourite food.” “That’s not my favourite food, Lennon, T-Bone steaks are.” Paul groaned and John smiled wickedly: “I rest my case!”

***

Things around them seemed to grow crazier and crazier. In Sydney some guy climbed up 8 storeys along drainpipes to reach their hotel room, an egg had been thrown at John during one of their shows, causing John to yell “What do you think I am, a salad?” which caused the other’s to double up in laughter on stage (although it wasn’t really funny, having eggs thrown at you).They were forced to wave from their hotel rooms at the crowds below to keep them quiet, even though they were exhausted and just wanted some time to relax. Girls where fainting by the dozens at their shows, and in England, John’s book had been the subject of a parliamentary discussion! Everywhere they went, literally hundreds of policemen were in charge of keeping the thousands of fans away from crushing them to death. That is, until they arrived in New Zealand.

Somehow the police in New Zealand couldn’t be bothered providing a mere pop group from England with an escort and safety measures: “We only do that for Royalty.” So when only two policemen tried to control a crowd of 5000, Neil and Mal tried to make a path for their car through the crowd, fending off the fans, while Neil told the four of them to lock themselves in the car to be safe. It was a very scary experience.

Then there was a bomb scare on one of their plane rides, making them very nervous during the entire flight, and the lack of police protection led to scary walks through huge crowds of fans, that Neil and Mal tried to fend off for them, but resulted in John ending up having some hair pulled out and Paul’s face being scratched. A young girl threw herself in front of their car, bouncing off the bonnet (but was luckily unhurt), and some fans were found hiding in their closet, trying to get near them.

When they returned from New Zealand to Australia, they found themselves paraded on an open truck in the middle of the night through a crowd of 8000, while food was being thrown at them by some non-Beatles fans. As a result of all that, they locked themselves up in their hotel room and decided only to come out to do their shows. No chances to go to a club or do some sightseeing. Just the inside of their hotel room. Not exactly exciting for four young guys in the prime of their lives.

The world had gone completely mad around them, and there was no way to escape from all that craziness. And that was the world John and Paul now found themselves in, as they were trying to keep their relationship alive. 

***

Upon their return to England, John and Paul decided to spend the few days they had off in their old apartment in Liverpool. They had been thinking about cancelling the rent, since they were hardly ever there anymore, but had decided against it. Holding on to it would provide them with a place to stay in their hometown, a place nobody had found out about yet. And of course on top of that, the place held a very precious memory, it being the place where they had made love for the very first time. It seemed like a lifetime ago already. So much had happened since then.

They were too exhausted to engage in any kind of sexual activity, so they just opted to lie in each other’s arms, naked as always, softly speaking about everything that happened to them in the last couple of weeks, when Paul brought up a subject that had been bothering him over the past hectic weeks.

“You know John, I think we should insist on Brian giving us more days off. We’ve hardly had any time to be alone together. We’re always on the road, and share a suite with George and Ritchie, with Neil and Mal always being around as well. I’m always afraid someone might hear us when we make love. It’s hard for me to completely let go, you know, with the others just on the other side of the bedroom wall. And it’s not just the lovemaking that’s difficult, we’re hardly ever able to talk to each other. Well, we can _talk_ obviously, but not _really talk,_ if you catch my drift, without the others getting suspicious.”

They were lying on their sides, facing each other, and John gently rubbed Paul’s nose with his own. “I know what you mean, baby. I cannot even call you “baby” with the others around, or just touch your thigh or even give you a smack on the cheek. And sometimes I wish I could just sit with you on the couch, my arm around your shoulders and talk about our life together, our hopes for the future, about what you mean to me.”

“And that’s important, Johnny, being able to talk to each other. Sure the sex is important as well, wouldn’t want to go without that for too long either, but talking is important as well. Being alone together is important. It’s important to keep our relationship alive. I’m afraid it won’t survive many more months like the last one, when we hardly had any time together. We absolutely need more time alone, without being afraid to be disturbed, or even worse, found out by the others. It’s difficult enough already to keep our relationship a secret from the entire world, with all the attention we’ve been getting, but even out of sight of the cameras and fans we’re not able to be ourselves. I mean, if George ever finds out about us...... And when we are at our Green Street apartment in London, George and Ritchie are always there as well. It’s so frustrating!”

“I’m not sure Brian will allow us to have more days off, Paul. I think he already has this gruesome schedule planned for us for the entire year. We _could_ tell him we need some more time “writing songs”, so we can be alone.”

“Problem is, John, we actually _do_ need more time to write songs. I feel like we don’t get enough time to really work on our songs right now, with all the travelling we do. And if we ask for more time to write songs, that’s _exactly_ what we’re going to spend it on, not on _quality time_ together.” 

“What do you suggest we do then, love?” “Well we _definitely_ should ask for more time off, but I’m also thinking of getting _our own place_ in London, just the two of us, so we don’t have to share with George and Ritchie any more. I love them both, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t want them around us _all of the time._ We already spend enough time together on the road.”

“A house of our own? Sounds like a good idea to me. It’s just.....how are we gonna explain we’re living together? I mean, we can tell the world about us needing to live together for the sake of our song writing, like we’ve been doing all along so far, but how long will people keep believing that, especially when we buy a house together?”

“I haven’t figured that one out yet, Johnny, but I’ll think of something. So, are we agreed on getting our own place in London then? So we can have more quality time together?” Paul kissed John’s nose and ran his hand through his auburn locks, massaging the man’s scalp softly. “If you keep doing this, baby” John sighed, “I’ll agree to anything you say.”

***

Next day, they decided to pay their families a visit. Paul had called ahead to his dad, telling him he would come around, and his dad had warned him there would be at least 3 or 4 dozen of girls waiting in front of their house, always hoping to catch a glimpse of Paul. Paul said he would come along anyway, since he had really missed his dad and Mike.

John would go to Mendips to visit Mimi (because Paul told him he should do so: “I’m sure she’ll love to hear about the world tour John, and she has probably missed you as well.” “I doubt she even knows I’ve been on a world tour, Macca.” “Well, I think you should go anyway, Johnny.” And then of course Paul had looked at him so sweetly with those kaleidoscope eyes, that John simply couldn’t refuse.) John had tried to call Mimi ahead, but she hadn’t answered the phone yet, and he was still trying to get a hold of her, when Paul was ready to leave for Forthlin. 

“You know what you look like, baby?” John giggled as he took in Paul’s disguise. “You look like what you would have become had you not chosen to be a Beatle: you look like a goddamned school teacher!” Paul had his black hair combed out of his face (no sigh of a mop top at all), had put on some black, thick rimmed glasses and wore a fake moustache. His disguise was perfected with a rather old fashioned rain coat (where the hell did he get that one?) and a worn out briefcase (John couldn’t remember having seen that one before either). “Good disguise, though, even I wouldn’t recognise you looking like this.” “Just as long as you remember to wear a disguise as well, Johnny. Wouldn’t want you to get mugged by a horde of fangirls when you visit Mimi. Give her my love, will you?” “Yeah, I will. Although I doubt if she’ll appreciate it. Say hello to your dad and Mike from me, okay?” “I will, Johnny. See you tonight, darling!” And with that, Paul left their apartment.

***

“Open the door will you, Mike. It might be Paul” Jim McCartney told his youngest son. They had been sitting in the small living room, answering heaps of fanmail addressed to Paul, when Paul had called earlier, saying he would drop by. And now someone was knocking at the door.

“Yes, can I help you?” Mike asked the man standing at the door. He looked like some kind of salesman or something. Or maybe it was one of those rather annoying reporters? “Is this the McCartney residence?” the man asked with an accent that suggested he came from London or thereabouts. “Who’s asking?” Mike asked suspiciously. “Well, I’ve been send by Mr. Paul McCartney to hand over the tickets for his father and brother for the premiere of his movie next week” “Oh, that’s strange, couldn’t he bring them himself? He said he was coming over today.”

“Ah, you know what those big stars are like, Mikey, they have all kind of people working for them, like a dad and kid brother answering their fan mail, people in disguise bringing premiere tickets.....” The man’s accent suddenly seemed to have morphed from Cockney to Scouse, and the mischievous smile revealing two bunny teeth held a strong resemblance to......”Fuck, Paul! I didn’t recognise you at all, you bastard! You better come in before those girls” he nodded at the fans standing in front of their garden “before they recognize you as well.”

Paul walked into the familiar house, that had been his home for so many years. “Let’s have some fun with dad, Mikey, see if he recognizes me.” Mike chuckled and called out “Dad! Dad, there’s a man here that’s come to bring tickets for the premiere of our kid’s movie!” Paul entered the living room, seeing his dad sitting in his armchair, his pipe in his mouth, spreading the familiar scent of his tobacco. He took in the place, the piano that he had played on so often, the fire place, with a photo of his mum on the mantelpiece, the chairs John and he used to sit on while playing their guitars. It all still looked exactly the same and it made him feel at home. He felt tears well up in his eyes and had to swallow a lump in his throat before he could talk. 

“Hello Mr. McCartney. Nice to meet you.” Paul summoned up his best Cockney accent and stretched out his hand to his father, who looked at him questioningly, shaking his hand. “Mike says you’ve been send by my son to give us tickets for the premiere of his movie? Why couldn’t he bring them himself, as he’s coming over today?” “Well, I guess that’s what happens, you know, when those blokes suddenly earn a lot of money, they start ordering people around, having people to do their dirty work for them and such. Fame goes to their heads, I suppose.”

Jim shook his head. “My son’s not like that at all. He’s very down-to-earth, very grounded, our kid is. I can tell you that you’re totally wrong about him, Mr..........?” “Paul. Paul McCartney. Nice to meet you, sir.” Paul and Mike burst out in laughter, seeing their dad’s eyebrows go up in surprise when the realisation hit him. “Paul! Oh dear, I didn’t recognize you at all! That’s some disguise you’re wearing, son. Oh, come here, you silly boy, let me give you a hug.” And then Paul found himself in the safety of his dad’s welcoming arms. 

***

“And these are from The Netherlands. They’re Dutch wooden shoes made from Delft Blue Ceramics. You see: they’ve got the famous Dutch windmills painted on it.” Paul was giving Mike and his dad the souvenirs he bought them during his world tour, happily sitting on the carpet in the living room, after having enjoyed a good cup of English tea. Australia and New Zealand might be part of the British Commonwealth, and their tea wasn’t half as horrible as the American tea (if you could call that tea at all), but nothing beat a good old fashioned cup of real English tea, preferably made by his dad, as far as Paul was concerned.

“And these are from Australia, obviously” he said as he presented Mike and his dad with a couple of boomerangs. “They’re hand-painted, with kangaroos and koala bears on it. Oh, someone’s knocking at the door.” “Who might that be?” Mike asked surprised. “Won’t find out until you open the door, brother dear,” Paul chuckled, “unless of course you’ve grown into a psychic that can look through doors while I’ve been away.” “Ha, ha, very funny, Paul. I’ll go see who it is then.”

Paul was explaining to his dad how he had tried to buy some souvenirs at the Bangkok airport, but that some fans (a whole bunch of them, really) had recognized him, and how he had been rescued from their hands by the local police, when Mike walked back in, together with an old, bearded man with thick round glasses, a grey Trilby-hat, a crooked back and a walking-cane.

“Dad, this gentleman has come all the way from London. He was ordered by Paul to bring us the tickets to the premiere of “A Hard Day’s Night". He says that Princess Margaret is coming as well.” “What? I didn’t order anybody to bring you the tickets. I brought them myself! And nobody knows Princess Margaret is coming to the premiere, how do you know that, old man? Brian just told John and me this morning on the phone, so you can’t possibly know abou......Jesus, John!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, their visit to Jim and Mike is a nice one. But will they visit Mimi as well? And what about that film premiere coming up? Read the next chapter to find out all about it!


	65. HEROES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Family visits, attending a movie premiere and meeting heroes, it all happens in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

It turned out that John hadn’t been able to get a hold of Mimi at first. So he had decided to put on his disguise first before trying to call her again. And when she had finally picked up the phone, she told him he couldn’t come over, since she had other responsibilities. It was Friday after all, and she always did the flower arrangements at the church on Friday, as John should know by now. So since John was already in disguise, he decided to head up to Forthlin Road, to join Paul, Jim and Mike. 

“You two are pretty good at disguising” Mike said, “I didn’t recognize either of you at first.” “Yeah, even _I_ didn’t recognize you, John, and I see that face of yours everyday! But, what’s that about, Mimi not wanting to see you? It’s not like you can come around that often. I’d thought she’d be happy to see you. Couldn’t she have cancelled her appointment?” Paul felt offended on John’s behalf by Mimi’s behaviour.

“I don’t agree with you Paul,” Jim addressed his son “You can’t just cancel an appointment at the last moment because something else comes up. It’s called “responsibility”. Maybe if you had called her a few days before, she might have been able to reschedule her appointment. I understand her point of view very well.” 

“She has asked me to come around tomorrow though. So maybe you can come with me then, Macca. Then I won’t have to face the Wicked Witch of the West on my own.” Jim was shocked. “John Lennon! That’s not the way to talk about your aunt!” “I know, I know, sir. But she never seems pleased to see me, you know, and she’s always going on about music not being a decent job, and she doesn’t seem to like Paul, which is weird, because let’s face it, _everybody_ likes Paul.”

“That might be so, but she’s still the woman who raised you, John, so you should at least show some respect. Now, are you two staying for dinner tonight? And what’s that about tickets for the premiere? And is her Royal Highness really coming?”

***

Paul’s dad had been thrilled when his son had told him he and Mike were invited to come to the World Premiere of “A Hard Day’s Night”. And even more thrilled when Paul had told him he might be able to introduce his dad to Princess Margaret. The outlook of meeting Royalty made him glow with pride. His son had really made the great, hadn’t he? Jim had made the boys’ favourite food (Paul’s mashed potatoes with onions, John’s mushy peas, and Mike’s sausages) and they had a lovely afternoon and night, talking about all that happened during their world tour.

Jim had shown concern when John and Paul had told him about the strange things that had happened to them, though, like people throwing themselves in front of their car, people thinking his son had healing powers, and the police not giving them enough protection. “I do hope Mr. Epstein makes sure that you are all safe. I couldn’t bear it if something would happen to you boys.” 

It had kind of warmed John’s heart that old Jim McCartney had included him in his concerns as well, instead of only worrying about his son. The man might be a bit old fashioned sometimes, but he did seem to have a good heart and was very inviting to John as well. Mimi on the other hand......

***

“You could have told me you’d bring your little friend along, John, so I wouldn’t have been taken by surprise by an unannounced person coming to visit. And what’s with these ridiculous disguises? What will the neighbours think if they see two strange men entering my house? It might damage my good reputation.” Mimi’s greeting was a far cry from Jim’s warm welcome the day before. John sighed. _“Paul,_ Mimi. His name is _Paul._ Not “my little friend” not “an unannounced person” but _Paul.”_

“Good afternoon Mrs. Smith. I’m very sorry to cause any inconvenience by showing up unannounced. I do hope you don’t mind me coming in? You’re looking exceptionally lovely today, if I might say so.” John rolled his eyes at his lovers’ words. Paul was always so polite to his aunt, always trying to charm her, even though she was always so dismissive of him.

After a very formal cup of tea, sitting neatly on the couch, John gave his aunt the souvenirs from the countries they visited during their world tour. “Wooden shoes? You went to a country so primitive they still wear wooden shoes?” “A boomerang? What on earth am I supposed to do with such a horrible thing from a country where we used to send our criminals?” 

John looked at Paul with a desperate look in his eyes. He really couldn’t do anything right, could he? He just wanted to go home, right now. “You know, Mrs. Smith, when we were driving from the airport to the hotel in Adelaide, more than 200,000 people lined the streets to see us? Isn’t that amazing? Some of them had been standing there for hours.” “Why would they do such a stupid thing? It’s not like you’re Royalty. _That_ I could understand. But to see some group of young men with too long hair? Ridiculous!”

Paul exchanged a look with John, nudging his knee with his own. “John has a surprise for you, don’t you John?” John raised his eyebrows. A surprise? What surprise was Paul talking about? But when he saw Paul’s lips form the word “tickets” he came to his senses. “Oh yeah. A surprise. Look what I’ve got here, Mimi” he said as he took the tickets for their movie premiere out of his pocket “Tickets for the World Premiere of our first movie!” 

Mimi took the tickets out of his hands like they were the most disgusting pieces of paper she had ever seen. “Yes, I have heard about that. But I _never_ go to the movies. It’s such a _vulgar_ thing to do, to sit in the dark with a lot of people you don’t know, just to see images you can see on your own television at your home just as well.” 

John rolled his eyes in despair. What was it with this woman? Why couldn’t she ever be proud of what he did? “I understand that very well, Mrs. Smith. But you can’t meet _Her Royal Highness Princess Margaret_ when you stay at home in front of your television, can you now?” Paul told Mimi with his most charming smile. John saw Mimi’s eyes grow wide. “Princess Margaret? Her Royal Highness is going to be there?” “She sure will be, Mrs. Smith. Together with Lord Snowdon. They are coming to see your nephew’s movie, isn’t that a real honor? I’m sure you are extremely proud of him. And we’re going to be introduced to them as well. We might even be able to introduce you to them. Wouldn’t it be great to meet Royalty?”

“Oh dear! When is this premiere then?” “In a couple of days, Mrs. Smith. We’re all very excited about it.” “In a couple of days? Couldn’t you have given me more notice? I have to get my hair done. And I need a dress.....What kind of dress should I wear? I’m going to have to buy a new one of course, can’t wear an old one in front of her Royal Highness. Is there a dress code? I need new shoes as well. And a matching purse of course. I’ve got so much to do in such a few days. Where can I get an appropriate dress in such a short amount of time?”

“No need to worry about that, Mrs. Smith. Why don’t you got to John Lewis? They’ve got a department with evening clothes and accessories. I’m sure you will find something that would look amazing on you.” Mimi looked at Paul with a worried look on her face. “But that’ll be terribly expensive, Paul ( _Paul,_ she actually called him _Paul!_ ), I’m not sure I will be able to afford that.” 

“No need to worry about that either, Mrs. Smith. John will pay for it.” John raised his eyebrows “I will? I didn’t know that.” “Of course you will, John. He’s such a funny guy, your John, isn’t he Mrs. Smith, always joking. But it isn’t very nice of you to make jokes at your aunt’s expense, John. She is very worried she won’t be able to afford a good dress, and she deserves the best dress there is, doesn’t she? So you better tell her she can buy whatever she wants.” “You can buy anything you want, Mimi” John told his aunt dutifully. “Just tell the people at John Lewis to send the bill to John. I can’t wait to see you all dressed up, Mrs. Smith. I’m sure you will look smashing!” “You think so Paul? I really want to look my best when meeting Her Royal Highness. I can hardly wait to go to that premiere.”

John realized that his aunt had finally succumbed to Paul’s charms, like everybody in the whole damned world eventually did. The boy could melt all the ice on the North Pole with his dashing smile and doe-eyes. So it shouldn’t have surprised him he would be able to melt Mimi’s heart as well. 

“Is this hand painted?” Mimi suddenly asked, looking at the boomerang John had given her. “Yes it is, Mrs. Smith. You see, there are little kangaroos and koala bears on it.” “Such cute little creatures, koala bears, aren’t they? Hand-painted, right? Must be very valuable then. Better give it a place of honour on the mantelpiece. Are you boys staying for dinner? I’m making roast beef with roast potatoes, carrots from my own garden, and Yorkshire pudding.” “That’s sounds really lovely, Mrs. Smith. John and I would love to stay for dinner.”

***

“You really _can_ charm the pants off anybody, can’t you love?” John told Paul when they sat down together on the couch in their apartment. “Mimi has totally warmed up to you, flattering her like that. She even called you by your first name; that has to be a first.” “Well, it’s actually my _second_ name, Johnny. But she seemed really happy to come to the premiere now, so that’s a good thing. And it wasn’t that difficult, you know. A little kindness goes a long way. You should try that for once, John.” 

"Okay, I’ll try that. Oh, Paulie, you look soooo good. That colour really suits you, really brings out the green specs in your beautiful eyes. And those pants you’re wearing really accentuate that gorgeous arse of yours. But then you look good in anything. Or without anything. How’s about that? Have I charmed your pants off you already?” John flashed his eyelashes and Paul chuckled.“Well, darling, you don’t need to charm my pants off me. I’ll gladly take them off for you all by myself.”

***

The World Premiere of “A Hard Day’s Night” was an amazing event. They all wore beautifully tailored tuxedos and arrived in a limo together, completely overwhelmed by the immense crowd of tens of thousands of fans waiting for them at Piccadilly Circus. And it was rather overpowering to see oneself at a giant screen in a cinema.

After the screening they were introduced to Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon. And they were able to introduce Jim and Mimi to her as well. Jim was a bit overwhelmed when his son introduced him to her Royal Highness as “My father James McCartney, the _best dad_ a boy could ever have.” 

Mimi, looking very lovely in a beautiful pale blue dress (John had to admit his aunt really looked very nice), was beaming (with..... what?......was that _pride_ he saw in her eyes?) after he had introduced her to the Princess and she had complimented her on having done a good job raising her nephew. “You must be very proud of him Mrs. Smith.” But John was completely flabbergasted when she had responded with: “Very proud, Your Royal Highness. It’s hard to believe what John has achieved together with his band. Every time I see his face in the newspapers or on the television, I feel extremely proud to be the one who has raised him.” Wonders _did_ exist after all!

***

Lying in their bed after the premiere, John and Paul talked about everything that had happened that night. Paul, a real royalist, had been so incredibly proud to have been introduced to Princess Margaret. “It was so amazing to meet her. I still can’t believe it happened. Me, a little scruff from Liverpool meeting a real princess! Who would ever have thought that? I was really nervous, you know, afraid I would mess up or say something wrong.”

John, who was anything but a royalist, chuckled. “She’s just a human being, you know, I can’t understand your fascination with the Royal Family at all. I think England should be a republic.” “I don’t agree with you, John, and neither does my dad, or Mimi for that matter.” “Yeah, yeah, I know, we don’t see eye to eye on this matter, and we probably never will. It was a nice party though and even Mimi seemed to have enjoyed herself. And she actually told Margaret she was proud of me!” 

“It’s _Princess Margaret,_ John, not _Margaret._ Well at least you behaved yourself in front of her. I was afraid you might say something to offend her.” “Me? Why would you think that? I never offend anybody! Although I would have liked to give that husband of hers a piece of my mind.”

“Lord Snowdon? Why on earth would you want to give him a piece of your mind? What did he ever do to you?” “What did he do to me? He eyed up my property, that’s what he did!” “What on earth are you talking about?” John sniffed. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Paul! You’re so oblivious! He was eyeing _you_ up. Clearly has the hots for you. He was practically drooling, couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, John! The man is married! And to a very beautiful woman as well! You always seem to think that every man in the world is after me.” “Well, I’ve got news for you, Paul. They are. Every man and every woman in the world wants you. Even straight men would like to get their hands on you, my boy. Which I doubt that Snowdon bloke is. Straight that is. Heard rumours he likes both women and men, a bisexual they call that. And I tell you, baby, he wanted you!”

“I think you see things that aren’t there, Johnny. I didn’t get that vibe off him at all. And even _if_ he was after me, I wouldn’t act upon it, would I? I’ve got you after all. So you’ve got nothing to worry about. And by the way, I am _not_ your property!”

***

A few days later there was a second premiere in Liverpool. 200,000 of their fans had lined up on their route to the Town Hall, where they waved at them from the balcony, just before each of them received a “Key to the City” and the honour of “Freeman of the City.” The Cinema was filled with friends and family, most of them from the immense McCartney clan. They didn’t really have time to socialize with them, though, since they had to fly back to London straight after the screening, having responsibilities there in the morning. On their flight back they discussed everything that had happened that day. 

“Hard to believe that an ordinary bloke from the Dingle now suddenly is a “Freeman of the City” Ringo said, shaking his head in disbelieve. “Yeah, pretty amazing that is” George replied. “And only a year and a half since we’ve had our first number one hit.” Paul nodded in agreement. “So much has happened to us, hasn’t it? I mean, I saw blokes that were in my class at the Inny. I was just a schoolmate then, and now I’m suddenly their hero! We’ve actually become heroes.” “What am I supposed to do with this key though?” John played with the key the Mayor had given him. “Am I supposed to use it whenever I visit Liverpool? And if so, then where’s the bloody door I have to open with it?”

***

Two months later, relaxing in their New York hotel in between two days of shows at the Forest Hills Tennis Stadium, John and Paul met one of their musical heroes: Bob Dylan. They had become huge fans of Dylan’s work and were gleaming with pride that he came to visit them that night.

They had wanted to talk to Bob about song writing, but in the end they found themselves giggling and feeling like they were floating around the room in complete bliss due to something new: cannabis. Of course they had heard of it, but they had never used it, much to the surprise of Dylan, who thought “I want to hold your hand” had the lines “I get high, I get high, I get high” in it. John sheepishly had to admit the lyrics were actually “I can’t hide, I can’t hide, I can’t hide.”

They smoked their first joints that night and Paul discovered there were Seven Levels, although the next morning he couldn’t recall what on earth they were exactly. He just knew he had a very good night’s sleep in John’s loving arms, after a very lazy snogging session (they were not up for anything more than that) and felt completely relaxed when he woke up.

***

Another highlight of their American tour came a few days later when, at a day off after their show in Atlantic City, Paul managed to get a phone call through to another one of their heroes: Elvis Presley. Elvis! Their idol! They had a very pleasant chat with The King and agreed to see each other in person whenever they were in the neighbourhood next time.

That night, John and Paul engaged in a little roll playing. Paul had greased his hair back in a real Elvis quiff, complete with a perfect curl on his forehead, and wiggled his hips, while singing “Heartbreak Hotel” in his best Elvis voice. It turned John on immensely, seeing his sexy lover acting like his idol. God, he remembered when a long time ago, before they became lovers, he had thought Paul looked exactly like Elvis, only even more beautiful than the King, and how he had wanked off underneath his Elvis’ poster, imagining it was actually Paul!

“Oh Elvis! Sway those hips for me! I loooove you” John shrieked like a fan girl, batting his eyelashes at his lover, his act causing Paul to giggle and mess up the words to the song. John threw himself at Paul’s feet, clutching his legs and kept crying out: “Oh Elvis! I want you! You look sooooo much better than that long haired boy from Liverpool! Please take me, I’m all yours!” Paul tried to sway his hips again, but John’s hold on his legs was so fierce he lost his balance and he tumbled down on top of John.

“Take me, Elvis, take me” John kept shrieking, and it didn’t take them very long to get rid of their clothes and find their way to the king size bed, where The King soon made passionate love to the fan girl, who turned out to be anything but a girl, judging by the low voice moaning and groaning in pleasure as The King entered the body lying beneath him. And if that wasn’t indication enough that this _fan girl_ was actually a _fan boy,_ the rock-hard cock standing up straight against his belly most certainly was. And when, after a few perfectly placed thrusts against a special spot, making his lover scream out in ecstasy, that hard cock between their bodies spilled its cum, there was no doubt about it: The King had just fucked a man. Who would have ever thought Elvis was queer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember John and Paul decided they should buy a house together? In the next chapter we'll see if they succeed in doing so.


	66. KENWOOD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> The boys return from their US tour, only to find a UK tour waiting for them. But at least there's some good news about their living arrangements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

They were tired upon their return from their month long tour through the States. They did have a few days off during the tour, but they had hardly been able to go anywhere, so they were either locked up in their hotel rooms (like in Key West, where they had to spend the day at their hotel, waiting for hurricane Dora to pass, getting so blatantly drunk they had started crying together) or attending fundraising parties (like the one for the Haemophilia Foundation of Southern California in Bel Air) or performing an unscheduled show, added at the last minute (in Kansas City). 

In fact the only real time off was on 19 September, Brian’s birthday, on a farm in Missouri. On their flight from Dallas to Missouri, at one minute after midnight, Paul took over the plane’s intercom and announced it was Brian’s 30th birthday, and they all erupted in a version of “Happy Birthday” on the plane and gave him some presents. John and Paul had bought him an antique telephone, “since you’ve already got a new one.”

They had a great time on the farm, fording a river, climbing steep rocks and riding horses. They all took to the saddle bravely, although none of them had ever ridden a horse, but John soon discovered horse riding was not for him. The horse was huge and fierce and he could hardly control it. The animal never seemed to listen to him at all. It was a rather frightening experience. “You mustn’t show you’re afraid, John. A horse smells it when you’re frightened and then it doesn’t listen to you” Paul told him. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m positively reeking then.”

Paul on the other hand, loved it. He completely felt in his element riding his high-spirited horse. So much he even got up at 7am the next morning, to ride some more before they had to leave for the airport for their flight to New York. John told him he was absolutely crazy, and had laughed his head off when Paul complained about saddle pain on the plane. “That’ll serve you right, leaving me all alone at 7 in the morning in favour of a bloody mare!” And then he added softly, so nobody else could hear “I’ll kiss that lovely arse of yours better tonight, baby.”

So all in all, with all the shows they’d been playing and all the travelling they had done, they arrived back in London feeling completely exhausted. Only to find they were scheduled to start recording their third album a week after their return, and John and Paul had yet to write some songs for it, so there wasn’t much time for romantic or sexual interludes. Life really sucked sometimes.

They weren’t able to write enough songs to fill the album with, so they decided to record some covers that had been on their repertoire in the past. John decided on “Mr. Moonlight” (Paul didn’t understand why, he never really liked that one, but he was wise enough not to tell John that) and Paul on Kansas City (John completely understood why, it was always thrilling to see Paul give his all on that song, and couldn’t resist telling Paul so). 

The most personal cover they decided on, was Buddy Holly’s “Words of Love.” That brought back some memories! John remembered how they had worked on the harmonies of the song in Paul’s tiny bedroom at Forthlin, and how they had performed it live for the very first time. Paul hadn’t even turned eighteen yet and he had been so fuckin’ beautiful that he had wanted to kiss those inviting lips that were so close to his own when they shared the microphone. But of course at that time they hadn’t confessed their love for each other yet. 

And now they were singing it together again, sharing a mic again, Paul looking even more beautiful than before, with lips that looked even more inviting now he knew what they tasted like, but still not being able to kiss him openly. That would have to wait until they were back at the apartment. The apartment they still shared with George and Ringo, since they hadn’t found time yet to look for something for themselves. 

***

The recording of “Beatles For Sale” took place amidst their UK tour, so they travelled back and forth between London and the rest of Britain. One hotel room morphed into another, one city melting into the next, and when they finally made it to their bed late at night, most of the time John and Paul hardly felt up to making love, just some tender caressing and kissing, before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

But then Paul received a phone call from his real estate agent. Since they had talked about buying a house of their own a few months before (so they didn’t have to share with their band mates anymore and so would have the freedom to live together as lovers) Paul had immediately hired an agent to look out for a suitable place, or rather _two_ suitable places, realizing they had to each buy a house of their own to make sure people wouldn’t get suspicious about the nature of their relationship. 

Paul had given explicit instructions about what he was looking for. One of the houses should be in London itself, preferably in the St.John’s Wood area, so they would be near to the EMI studios. It would be nice to live nearby when they were recording, so they wouldn’t have to travel far to and from work (although Paul never considered making music “work”). And he wanted another house somewhere in the rural environment around London, at an hour’s drive at most, with a large garden and maybe a swimming pool, somewhere to spend their days off in peace, and where they could write their songs. 

John had been horrified when he found out about Paul’s plans. Were they supposed to live separate lives in separate houses? Didn’t Paul want to be with him anymore? But his worries were laid to rest after Paul explained that _of course_ they wouldn’t live separately. They would either _live together_ alternately in one house or in the other. They would simply migrate between the houses. Nobody could have a problem with two band mates sleeping over in each other’s houses, because they needed to write songs together, after all. 

And now the real estate agent told Paul he might have found the first suitable house. It was called “Kenwood” and situated in Weybridge, about an hour’s drive from London’s St. John’s Wood area. It was a house built in 1913 in mock Tudor style, with 22 rooms, and it was surrounded by some acres of gardens. 

John and Paul went to see it at the first available day off, but were not overtly enthusiastic about it. They were a bit put off by the amount of rooms for instance. What on earth were they going to do with 22 rooms? They only needed one to sleep in after all. And a living room of course. And a dining room. And a music room. And some guest rooms for whenever family members would come over. And maybe a recreation room? A study? And maybe they could reduce the amount of rooms by combining some of the smaller ones to create larger ones? Suddenly the amount of rooms didn’t seem so ridiculous anymore. And the garden was large enough to build an outdoor swimming pool, since swimming was the only type of sport they both liked. Although they didn’t know if floating on an inflatable bed would count as sport.

So after some contemplating, they decided to buy it. They would invest an equal amount of money each, but decided to put down John’s name as its sole owner, to avoid any suspicion. The second house they would buy, would be in Paul’s name. All to avoid any sort of suspicion that would indicate they were more than just friends. 

They were a bit disappointed though, that the renovations they had decided upon would take a few months, so they wouldn’t be able to move in yet. That meant that in the meantime they would still have to share Green Street with George and Ringo. 

***

As it turned out, they wouldn’t have had any time to spend together in Kenwood anyway, since Brian had them on such a gruesome schedule, it felt they were working eight days a week. Their UK Tour had them sleeping in a different city every night, after shows that were more and more surrounded by complete madness, fans that went out of their way to catch a glimpse of them, and policemen doing everything to keep them from reaching their idols.

It wasn’t until the month of December started that they finally got a break: Ringo had to go to hospital to get his tonsils removed and John and Paul had made it perfectly clear to Brian they would not replace Ringo this time, like they had done a couple of months before when they went to Denmark, The Netherlands and Australia. No Jimmy Nicol this time around! He’d been a nice guy, but they vowed never to replace Ringo again. And since Ringo had to stay in hospital for 10 days, and because they had no other commitments until 21 December (when rehearsals for their new Christmas Show would start), John and Paul suddenly had _three whole weeks_ to be alone together in their new house! During their UK tour Kenwood had been renovated and decorated according to their wishes and was ready to be lived in.

The first thing they did after setting foot in their new residence, was christening the giant master bedroom, which featured a huge double bed, white carpets and an en-suite bathroom complete with sunken bathtub, shower, Jacuzzi and two wash-basins. Paul had topped John in a rather dominating way, and John had loved it. Strange how you could love being dominated by the man you loved, while at the same time you would be totally protective of him and see him as a rare piece of China. Of course the post-coital bliss (and the exhaustion from the past busy months) had left them both sleepy and they had soon fallen asleep in their new bed. 

When they awoke a couple of hours later, they decided to take a tour of their new home to see the result of the renovations. Paul reached for his boxers and was about to put them on. “You don’t have to wear them on my account, bunny” John smiled, still lying on the bed, admiring his lover’s naked body. “I kind of like this view a lot. And since we’re all alone in this place……” Paul dropped his boxers and wiggled his eyebrows “You want me to do the grand tour of our house in the nude then? Kinky! But only if you do so too.”

***

The large living room had black carpets, and a marble fireplace.“Very cosy, a real fireplace, but how do we start a fire, Paul?” Paul’s mouth dropped open. Surely John knew how to start a fire? “By lighting some wood of course, Johnny.” “And where do we get wood, Macca?” “Haven’t you seen the pile of wood outside? We only have to chop it up in smaller pieces and we can light a fire.” “We? Chopping wood is not one of my skills.” “Don’t worry, John, I know you’re much too delicate to chop wood, so I’ll do it.” “I’m not delicate!” “I know that. You only _act_ like you’re delicate. Hey, don’t do that!” John mock punched him.

The dining room was decorated with purple velvet wallpaper and the adjacent sunroom had two large yellow chaises-longues on which they could relax. It had glass sliding doors that led to a terrace and the pool. John had wanted the pool to have mirrors on the bottom, but had been told that would be impractical and dangerous. So he had settled on a large eye mosaic. “Looks great doesn’t it?” John said approvingly. “Can’t wait to go skinny-dipping with you, Paulie!” Paul chuckled. “Skinny-dipping in December? My cock would completely shrivel from the cold! Well, at least then you’ve really got a reason to call me _Paulie,_ I suppose.”

And then of course there was the kitchen, where state-of-the-art appliances were installed. “Do you have any idea how all this works?” Paul asked John, as he eyed something that looked like a stove, but then again didn’t look like it at all. _“Me?_ You’re asking _me?_ I’m hopeless when it comes to anything technical, you should know that by now. And what the hell is this?” John opened the door to something that looked very futuristic. “Looks like some kind of weird oven to me. Do you suppose it comes with a manual?” 

Paul frowned as he looked at all the buttons on the strange oven and then closed its door. “It says “Microwave” on the front. Doesn’t ring a bell to me.” He then moved to another futuristic looking kitchen item. It kind of looked like a large pan but it seemed to work on electricity. When Paul opened the lid he discovered a basket inside. He raised his eyebrows and closed the lid again. “Oh look, it says “Deep-fryer” on the lid. You suppose this is to make chips?”

John shrugged. “How should I know, Macca, never seen anything like that before. I guess we’d better hire a tutor to explain how everything works, love, or we will starve for sure. Can you imagine the headlines: _“Beatles starve to death amidst luxury kitchen items.”_ Paul chuckled. “Or how about this one: _“Problem kitchen causes Beatles to live meatless.”_ So they decided to hire a tutor to explain the ins and outs of futuristic cooking to them, since neither of the headlines appealed to them. 

***

They climbed the staircase in the entrance hall to the first floor, where five bedrooms were situated: the giant master bedroom they had already christened, plus four guestrooms, together with a study. “Well, at least we can have some friends or family staying over” Paul said, after opening another door to another guestroom. “Yeah and you can resume your studying to become a teacher, now you have your own study and all that.” “I don’t want to be a teacher, John, never did.” “Then why did you choose to go to teacher college then, if you didn’t want to become a teacher?” “I had to do something with my life, didn’t I, after you ruined my dream of becoming a rock ‘n’ roll star by kicking me out of the band…..” “Yeah, I know, sorry about that…..”

“Now let’s get up to the most important room of our new house then” Paul said as he started to climb the stairs to the attic. John wiggled his eyebrows. _“The most important room?_ I thought we’d already seen that one, baby.” Paul raised his eyebrows. “No we didn’t. The music room is in the attic, isn’t it?” ”The _music room_ is, Macca, but I’m not talking about the _music room,_ am I?” John wiggled his eyebrows again. “Oh for heaven’s sake, John, can’t you think about anything else but _sex?”_ ”Who said anything about _sex?_ I didn’t. You are the one who brings that up. I was referring to _sleeping!”_

The ceiling of the music room was painted in bright colours and had all of their musical equipment inside. He was surrounded by all of their guitars and his basses, there was an upright piano and an electronic organ, amplifiers and Studer tape recorders. To Paul, this was paradise! “God, John, this is great! Just imagine working on our songs in here, recording our own demos!” “Yeah, it’s great, Paul, just as long as you’ll promise not to spend all of your time up here, playing with all of your musical trinkets. Think about little old me every now and then. I like to be played with too, you know.” ”You don’t have to worry about that, Johnny boy, I always think about you. As a matter of fact, I think it’s playtime right now!” Paul pulled John towards him and crashed their lips together in a heated kiss. And soon they found themselves on the floor. Who needs a bedroom anyway?

The attic also had a small guestroom and a games room, where John had his model car racing games set up. Three of them. Leaving no room for anything Paul would have liked to put in there. But he didn’t complain. He had his own music room. He didn’t really need anything else. Except for the bedroom of course. 

***

They decided to hire a housekeeper. “I didn’t mind keeping our little apartment in Liverpool clean on my own, John…..” “Cleaning is not one of my skills….” ”…… but if I have to clean _this_ house alone, I won’t have any time left to play around with you.” “Let’s hire a housekeeper right now!”

The housekeeper should also be able to cook for them, since neither of them was very adept in the kitchen, and living on sausage and mash or scrambled eggs all of the time got a bit boring.“I thought you were planning on doing some more cooking _yourself,_ John.” _“Me,_ why me?” “Because _you_ were the one who insisted on having this _state-of-the-art kitchen_ installed.” “That was just to show off to our friends, Paulie. Cooking is not one of my skills.” “Do you have _any,_ then?” “What do you mean?” “Skills.” “Hey don’t insult me!”

A groundskeeper was also high on their priority list. “I don’t mind doing _some_ gardening, Johnny. After all I did help dad out in our garden at Forthlin, and I like doing it to some extent, but this garden is a bit too large to do on my own.” “I never helped Mimi in the garden. Gardening is not one of my…..” “Skills. I know John, I know. God, you really wouldn’t be able to ever live by yourself alone.” “No need to learn those skills, is there? I mean, I’ve got you, don’t I?” “So we hire a groundkeeper!”

And so their domestic life together had started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The domestic live does wonders for John and Paul. Especially in the sex department. Read all about it in the next chapter!


	67. REAL LOVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Domestic life together does John and Paul a world of good. Their songwriting thrives. And so does their sex life.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“Wanna go visit Ringo in hospital with me today?” Paul asked that morning at the breakfast table. John, just putting a spoonful of cornflakes and milk in his mouth, shook his head. “He can only have one visitor at a time, Macca. But I’m sure he’d love to see you. Besides, I wanna make some calls to the papers, to place advertisements for a housekeeper and groundkeeper.” 

Paul took a sip of his tea. “Just as long as you make sure you don’t mention our names. We might get all kinds of lunatics looking for a job it they know they’ll be working for Beatles. Well, I’d better be off then, before visiting hours are over. See you later, love.” He pressed a kiss to John’s hair. “Tell Ritchie I said “Hello” and that I hope he recovers soon. Drive carefully, baby.” God they sounded like an old married couple, John thought, but he loved it!

After finishing his cornflakes, he set himself down in the study, writing the text for the advertisement before contacting some newspapers asking them to publish it. And then he had time to do what he _really_ wanted to do today: getting Paul a house-warming present! He knew exactly what he was going to get his partner. He called for a taxi (he really should try to pass his driver’s test sometime soon) and headed for the address he had cut out of the newspaper yesterday when he saw the advertisement for this perfect gift. He could hardly wait to see the surprise on Paul’s face when he returned from Ritchie tonight!

***

Paul was happy to see Ritchie again, and was glad to see their drummer doing so well. He had recovered well from his operation and would be able to leave hospital the next day. He still had to keep it quiet for a few days, but then he would be as right as rain again. He told Paul that Maureen had been visiting him every day, and Paul could clearly see that Ritchie was completely smitten with her. He was happy for his friend, and Paul really liked Maureen, she was a very pretty and down –to-earth girl. A really nice Liverpool Lass, she was. Paul told Ringo all about Kenwood and invited him to come over to John’s place (he actually remembered just in time to refer to Kenwood as John’s house) when he was fully recovered.

After his visit to the hospital, Paul drove to the address Freda had given him. He wanted to give John a present, something like a house-warming gift, and he had known instantly what that should be. He had called Freda, Brian’s secretary and the president of their fanclub, because he knew she surely would be able to give him advice on where to go to get what he wanted. On his way over, he started singing. Somehow melodies and lyrics always came to him when he was driving. “I’ve just seen a face, I can’t forget the time and place......” He smiled. He couldn’t wait to see John’s face when he would open his present!

***

“Johnny! I’m home!” Paul called out for John, standing in the entrance hall of Kenwood, placing his present carefully underneath the coat-rack. “John? John where are you? I’m ho......Oh, hello darling. Happy to see me, are you?” John had come up behind him, wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his neck. “Missed you, baby. The house is so empty when you’re not there. Next time I come with you to the hospital.” “Too late, Johnny. Ritchie’s going home tomorrow.” “That’s good news! He’s doing well then?” “Yeah, he is. And you know what? I think things between him and Maureen are really getting serious. She has visited him every day.” “Good for him! I like Maureen.” “Me too, I think she’ll be good for him. But now for something completely different: I’ve got a present for you, Johnny boy.”

“A present? You’re kidding me! I happen to have a present for you too! I guess great minds think alike, baby!” “Really? What is it then?” “Duh, wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you. Just open it and see for yourself” John lifted a box from the side-table and presented it to his partner. “There you are, love. Hope you like it.” Paul eyed the box curiously. What could it be? He opened the lid carefully, looked inside and burst out laughing. “What’s so funny then? Don’t you like it? Oh God, you don’t like it, do you? You think it’s a daft present.” “No, no, John, I love it! Or rather him. Or is it a her? Hello little one. What’s your name then?” He lifted the cutest little kitten out of the box. “It’s a her and her name is Thisbe. Now what are you laughing about now?” “Thisbe, after your character in our Shakespeare sketch?” “Yeah, but you can rename her if you don’t like it. Would you stop laughing please? I really don’t understand what’s so funny.” 

“Oh Johnny. I think great minds really think alike. Here, open my present and see for yourself!” John eyed his present suspiciously before opening it. To his astonishment he was greeted by the two cute eyes of....”Pyramus. John meet Pyramus, named after _my_ character in our sketch. Pyramus, meet John.” John held the kitten in his hands, falling instantly in love with the little fluffy animal. “Oh, you’re so cute! This is the best present ever, Macca! I love cats!” “I know you do, love, that’s why I got you one. But it’s so funny we both had the same idea! Hey Thisbe, meet Pyramus. I hope you’ll become great friends.” “Yeah, just like the real Thisbe and Pyramus, that being the two of us of course, not the Shakespeare ones.” Paul grinned. “Poor little kittens. They have no idea what a strange household they’ve come to live in.” 

***

The run of their “Another Beatles Christmas Show” at the Hammersmith Odeon in London started at 21 December. Jimmy Saville acted as a compère between the different acts and sketches. “I know he’s really popular, with him being the presenter of “Top of the Pops” and all, but I get a strange vibe off of him, John” Paul had told John during their rehearsals. John totally agreed “Yeah, he acts very weird, and the way he talks about girls......young girls......I don’t know, Paul. Maybe we shouldn’t have him on our show.” “I guess it’s too late to replace him now, so we’d better put up with him. But let’s not have any further involvement with him if we can, agree Johnny?”

There were two shows on each night, between 21 December and 16 January , and they had a total four days off, one of them on Christmas Day, which they decided on spending in Kenwood, instead of travelling to Liverpool, since they had two shows the next day. They soon grew tired of the shows, though, specially the sketch where they were dressed up as Antarctic explorers searching for the Abominable Snowman. Their costumes were bloody hot underneath the stage lamps and the lines they had to say were absolutely ridiculous. They vowed _never_ to do such a Christmas Show ever again. 

After their Christmas Shows, there was nothing scheduled for them for four whole weeks! They would start recording songs for their next album on 15 February, songs John and Paul still had to write of course, so they didn’t _really_ have those four weeks completely off. Nevertheless they had planned a 10-days holiday to Tunesia in February. 

But the day after their last Christmas Show, Ringo proposed to Maureen (“See, John, I told you it was getting serious between them”) and they planned to get married on 11 February, three days before John and Paul would return from their holiday. They considered calling their holiday off, so they could attend Ritchie’s wedding, but he convinced them to go anyway. “You guys really need a break, and I’m sure I’m perfectly able to get married without you two idiots attending.” 

Before they left for Tunesia, they had two weeks to write some songs. They retreated to Kenwood, and managed to write a couple of songs in between relaxing and making love. Amongst the songs they wrote, there was John’s “You’ve got to hide your love away” about how difficult it was to hide his relationship with Paul, and Paul wrote “Tell me what you see” to make it clear to John he would always be there for him. All in all they managed to write eight songs in the relaxed, safe and private environment of their new home.

And maybe it was because they felt safe and relaxed, John didn’t really know, but their relationship seemed to thrive very well. And on one of their passionate nights, just when John had grabbed the lube, horny as hell, lying down on his back with his legs already spread, anticipating a nice fuck by his gorgeous lover, Paul completely took him by surprise. 

Paul, his cock standing up proudly (God he did have a gorgeous cock, didn’t he?) suddenly seemed to hesitate and said, rather shyly “I think I want to do it the other way around.” John raised his eyebrows. Up until now Paul had always taken him face to face. John really liked that, because that way he could see those beautiful kaleidoscope eyes when Paul fucked him, and he also loved to see Paul’s face when the young man came. But didn’t they say “Variety is the spice of life?” “You want to take me from behind then? _You kinky bastard!_ We’ve never done it that way before, but I’m all in for it! Shall I get on all fours then?”

John wanted to turn around, but Paul chuckled nervously. “No, no, that’s not what I mean, John. I mean......I want you to.......I wanna try.......you know......find out what it’s like.......you know.......you seem to like it a lot......so I thought.......maybe......you know......maybe _you could take me?”_

***

John couldn’t believe his ears! Did he really hear that right? _Had Paul just asked him to take him?_ Was his dream finally becoming a reality? After so much time? He had never asked Paul again if he could fuck him, after Paul had told him about the sexual abuse. He had asked Paul _to fuck him instead,_ hoping that he could make Paul see that anal sex could be very good (and God, it was good!). He had waited and waited, hoping that one day Paul would ask for it himself, instead of him asking Paul. He wanted to give Paul the time and space to make that decision himself, even though the waiting took a lot of John’s patience. And now, completely out of the blue, Paul seemed to have made the decision!

“Paul, love, are you sure?” John whispered. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not sure of. I don’t want you to do anything just because you think I want you to. Of course I want to take you, make love to you, make you feel how good it can be.......I’d love that! But only if you really, really want it, only if you are completely sure about it. So, my darling, are you sure?”

Paul looked at him with wide eyes, so open, so full of trust, trust in _him,_ it almost made John cry. Paul. _His beautiful Paul._ He reached out to take Paul’s hand and kissed each knuckle of that elegant hand tenderly, as Paul softly nodded and whispered “I’m sure Johnny, I want to try. Just.....just promise me.....promise me that when it gets too much......when I can’t take it.......when I ask you to stop......Will you stop then?” John stood up from the bed and took Paul in his arms, holding him as close as possible, and reassuringly whispered in the dark hair “I promise, baby, if you want me to stop, just tell me and I will stop straight away, I promise. I won’t hurt you, I promise. I love you Paul, I love you so much.......”

***

It had been wonderful. He couldn’t deny that. He had felt things he had never felt before. Never knew existed. And he didn’t regret it. Not for a single second. Of course he had seen John thoroughly enjoying being fucked, but he had never for one second thought he could enjoy it himself. Never thought it could give him an orgasm that intense. After all, he _knew_ how much it had hurt......

John had gently laid him down on their bed and had started covering his whole body with sweet, tender kisses. Paul had closed his eyes, enjoying each touch of John’s lips, and the skin all over his body had started to tingle. John’s lips around his cock had felt heavenly. But when John softly started to push his legs apart, he felt a wave of panic wash over him. Did he really want this? John, sensing his unease, had cooed “Relax, baby, relax, it’s only me, your Johnny. Trust me, Paulie, I’m not gonna hurt you, bunny.”

John’s words had managed to turn down his level of panic to a slight nervousness. John had caressed his inner thighs, kissing him there so tenderly, it made Paul’s heart flutter. Gently, oh so gently, he had pushed Paul’s legs further apart and had lifted them up. As he held on to Paul’s legs, he had bent his head down to kiss his thighs again, slowly moving towards.......

Paul had gasped when he felt John’s tongue flicker over his hole. That felt good! John continued to do so for a while, and Paul felt his body relax more and more, as he got more and more aroused by the feeling of John’s warm, wet tongue rimming him, and he let his head fall back, his eyes closed.

Then John had stopped suddenly, and Paul had opened his eyes, to find John’s warm almond shaped eyes looking straight into his. “I’m gonna push a finger in now, baby. I’m gonna use lots of lube and I’ll go very slowly, so you can adjust to the feeling, love. All you have to do, is relax and trust me. Do you trust me?” Paul had nodded. He was nervous and a little scared, but he trusted John. He trusted John not to hurt him. He trusted John to stop if he asked him to. 

John took the lube and slithered a good amount on his finger and Paul’s hole. It had felt cold and he had shivered a bit at the feeling. Then he felt John’s finger push against his rim. The feeling had made him tense up and he had nervously starting to bite his bottom lip. “Don’t tense up, baby, don’t tense up. It’s only me, your Johnny” John had whispered while looking in his eyes with such tenderness, that Paul had managed to relax. 

And then he had felt John’s finger slide in a bit. He had gasped, and had started to breath heavily and tensed up again. That didn’t feel good! It didn’t feel good at all. But John had whispered all kinds of reassuring words and he had slowly started to relax again. He had felt John’s finger slide in further and further. It had felt very uncomfortable, not extremely painful, but surely not good. Why didn’t it feel good? John always said it felt so good! John had slowly started to move his finger in and out of his hole, and he tensed up again, which resulted in John’s movements causing him pain. Paul had bitten his lip hard and he had squeezed his eyes closed. He had wanted to ask John to stop, but then John had started making those cooing sounds again and he managed to relax a bit more. The pain slowly disappeared. But it still didn’t feel good.

John had pulled out his finger, and suddenly there had been a strange feeling of loss. “I’m gonna add a second finger, baby. You’re doing so well, my love, you’re doing so well. Just relax and trust me.” And then John had entered his hole with two fingers and had started to move them, and for a moment Paul thought he was ripped apart and he was almost overcome with the horrible memories of Mr. Maxwell raping him. “John......I don’t think I want this” he had gasped “I think I want you to sto........oooooh!” Suddenly a feeling of indescribable pleasure had washed over him. His eyes flew open. What the fuck was that? What on earth had John touched inside of him? John had made the same movement again and Paul had heard himself cry out in pleasure “Oh my God, John! Again! Do that again!” 

All of the pain had suddenly disappeared. It had felt good, so good! “I think I’ve just found your pleasure pot, didn’t I, bunny?” John had smiled into his eyes. “Want me to stop? Or do you want me to go on?” “Go on, please, Johnny, do that again, please, it feels so good.....ooooh!” Paul had let his head fall back again when pleasure had seemed to consume his whole body. Was this what John liked so much? If it was, he now fully understood why John liked it so much! It felt divine!

“Baby, do you think you’re ready for more? You think you’re ready for my cock now? Do you want me to take you now?” John had asked him ever so sweetly, but with a hint of arousal in his voice. He had looked in John’s eyes and had seen nothing but love there. He had slowly nodded his head, not really being able to speak, not really trusting his voice. Nerves and arousal were fighting to get the upper hand in his body and it made his head swirl with confusing thoughts. Yes, he wanted John to go further! To experience more of that amazing feeling inside of him. But at the same time the thought of having a cock inside of him still scared him. But he nodded anyway. It was time now.......

John had slithered an enormous amount of lube on his penis, that stood up hard and proud and beautiful and at that moment had Paul wanted him, had wanted to feel him......But when John had pushed against his hole, trying to get the tip past his rim, Paul tensed up again. He hadn’t want to tense up, he had really, really tried to relax, but the memories of the pain Mr. Maxwell had caused him, proved too strong for him to fight. “John, please, I don’t think......” “Look into my eyes, baby, look into my eyes. Concentrate on my eyes, on my voice. It’s only me, my darling, only me, your Johnny. I won’t hurt you, just relax and trust me, baby. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.....You’re so beautiful, so gorgeous, my beautiful, beautiful baby. Relax my little bunny, it’s only me, I love you, I love you.......”

Paul had concentrated on John’s warm, soothing voice, never loosing eye contact, and had managed to relax enough for John to slowly push in, further, deeper, until John’s cock was fully in. Slowly he had gotten used to the feeling. John had stayed still for a while, giving him the chance to adjust and when John had softly asked him if he could move, Paul had nodded again. “Could you try to find that spot again?” 

And John _had_ found that spot again, and as his hard member stroked it again and again, Paul’s own cock had stirred and stirred, hardening, growing, leaking precum, as he cried out in pleasure every time John’s cock hit his prostate. John had moaned deeply, drops of sweat falling down from his forehead on Paul’s chest. “Baby, baby, so good, so good” he had heard his lover groan. Paul’s hand had found his own cock, desperate for release, but John had pushed his hand away. “Let me, darling, let me.” And John’s hand had worked wonders. It had made him so close to coming, and when John moaned “Come for me, baby, come for me” Paul _had_ come. Hard. Harder than ever before. Wave after wave of pleasure had washed over him. It had felt like his orgasm would never end. And with a deep moan John had spilled inside of him. He had felt it and had loved it. 

And now he was lying in John’s protective arms, in a total post-coital bliss, like he had never felt before. It had been truly wonderful. He had crossed a barrier that he never though he would ever cross. And he had not only managed to cross it, but he had truly enjoyed it. John had showed him how good it could be, had replaced the bad memories with new, very good ones, full of pleasure, full of love, full of John. And when he drifted into a deep pleasant sleep, he knew one thing: this was real love.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that happened! This wasn't just a little jump through a rabit hole for Paul, but a giant leap! And he made it to the other side. He's overcome his fears and he has enjoyed it. Life is certainly looking good for both of them. In the next chapter Paul writes a song. But he's not so sure about it.......


	68. REMBRANDT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Paul wakes up with a song in his head. And John and Paul pay Jim and Mike a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

They had a wonderful time in Tunesia. The place they stayed in belonged to the British Embassy, and looked like it came straight from a scene of 1001 Arabian Nights. They spent a lot of time in their bedroom, making love, and Paul had written a song in the bathroom, because “the acoustics are fab in here!” They had sent a telegram to Ritchie and Maureen on their wedding day, and had bought some oriental jewellery for both of them: a beautiful necklace for Maureen and a ring for her husband. 

The day after their return, John had his driver’s test, which he, to the surprise of the others, passed. “How can you have possibly passed that test, John? Did you bribe the instructor?” Paul had asked, causing George and Ringo to double up in laughter. “Wouldn’t surprise me at all” George hiccupped “I can’t possible see you pass that test without some sort of foul play on your part.” “Watch it, Harrison! I have passed my test fair and square!” “Hey, why can _he”_ George pointed at Paul “say something about it without you getting mad at him, and when _I_ make a remark I have to face your wrath?” “Because Paul is cute” John answered “and you’ve got big teeth and I don’t like big teeth.” “Fuck off, Lennon!” “Yeah, I can do that now, can’t I? Fuck off driving my own car! So who wants a ride?” “No way!” three voices called out in perfect harmony, leaving John very offended.

***

They started recording for their next album the same day John got his driving licence. They had about 11 songs ready to record, but they were not sure yet if they were going to use them all for their album. One morning, Paul woke up next to John in Kenwood with a melody in his head. In fact it was a complete song. No lyrics, just the music. The presence of the music in his head was so strong, he simply had to get to the piano to play it. He slipped out of bed gently, so he wouldn’t wake up John. The urge to get to the piano was so strong, he didn’t even bother to put on any clothes and he went up to the music room in the nude.

Sitting down at the piano, his fingers found the keys, and the song that seemed to fill his entire brain, his entire _being,_ just floated out of his fingers. He played it over and over again, liking it a lot, but wondering what it was. Was it a tune he had heard the day before and that had settled in his brain? Surely it couldn’t be something he had made up himself. You don’t make up songs in your dreams, do you? It had to be something he had heard somewhere before. But he had this strange feeling that he _did_ dream up the song.

“What you’re doing up so early, baby?” John entered the music room, wearing his bathrobe. “And sitting at the piano naked? Not that I mind, of course, you look bloody hot like this.” Paul looked at himself, he hadn’t even realized he had gone up to the music room naked. The urge to get to the piano had been too strong to think about anything else. 

“I woke up with a song in my head and just had to find the piano and play it. Sit down and have a listen, will you? Do you recognize it?” John sat down next to him on the piano bench, and wrapped his arm around his naked shoulders. “Baby, you’re freezing! How long have you been up here? Come on, let’s go downstairs and put something on.” “I will in a moment, Johnny. But listen to this first, please? Tell me if you’ve heard it before.” 

“No, I don’t think I recognize it, love. Why do you ask?” John said after hearing Paul play. “Because it was in my head when I woke up, and......well, it kind of feels like I’ve dreamt it up. But I can’t really believe I’ve written a song in my dreams, so it must be something I’ve heard somewhere. But you don’t recognize it?” “No, I don’t darling. It’s a lovely melody, though. Maybe you should ask George Martin about it, he might know. Are there any words to it?” “No, just the melody. I’m not gonna bother putting words to it if the melody’s not mine. Well, I’ll ask George about it later, I’m gonna put some clothes on and make us some breakfast.” “Ah, breakfast! Now you’re talking! I like some scrambled eggs, please.” “Scrambled eggs.......scrambled eggs....... _Scrambled eggs!_ That would fit the melody perfectly! _Scrambled eggs. Oh my baby how I love your legs. But not as much as I like scrambled eggs. Oh how I love my scrambled eggs.”_ “So you’ve written a breakfast song in your sleep? You daft git!”

***

Paul had asked George Martin about the song, but he didn’t recognize it, and neither did anyone else at the studio, but George promised to do some research. “Lovely melody though, Paul.”

After six days of recording, they had a day off before they would fly over to the Bahamas to start filming their next movie. A second movie, in colour this time! And filming in such a warm and exotic place as well, far away from the cold and wet UK. All four of them were very excited about it. 

On the day off, before leaving for the Bahamas, Paul wanted to visit his dad. “I haven’t seen him in months, John, and with the busy schedule we’re on for the next 2 months, I might not get the chance to get to see him any time soon. I haven’t even seen his new house yet, and he’s been living there for, what....four, five months or so?” 

When Paul had hired a real estate agent that would have to find appropriate houses for him and John, he had also asked him to look for a house for his dad and Mike. The situation at Forthlin had become rather unbearable with the amount of fans camping outside the door. Some of them had even tried to break in the small terraced house, to see Paul’s bedroom! And although Jim was very proud of all his son had achieved, things really started to get out of hand. Paul also thought it was time his dad retired and had a nice house to live in. With all the money he was earning, he could easily buy his dad a detached house with a nice garden and provide for him as well. After all his dad had done for him, it was the least he could do. 

The real estate agent had found a very nice house, called “Rembrandt” in the small village of Heswall in the Wirral, the peninsula between Liverpool and Wales. Paul had seen photos and loved the house and the lovely garden, knowing his dad (being a keen gardener) would be especially pleased with that. His dad had been overwhelmed when Paul had told him he bought him a house, had softly stomped him between the ribs and had mumbled “You daft bugger” with tears in his eyes. 

And so now Paul was standing in front of the white house with the timber framing elements, after the three-hour drive up there from London, with John by his side. His dad greeted him with open arms, and the warm hug immediately made Paul feel at home. John also received a warm hug, which he awkwardly returned. “It’s so good to see you boys, it’s been too long. Mike! Mike, our kid’s here!”

They had a very pleasant afternoon, and Jim had shown them the house and managed to give them a tour of the garden in between the very British showers. “I’m so glad we’re going to the Bahamas tomorrow! Can’t wait to see the sun and blue skies, and sunbathe by the pool, feel the warmth, away from the grey and rainy British isles.” John had sunken down on one of the comfy sofas and sipped his tea. Old Jim really made a good cuppa! “You lucky devils, filming on the Bahamas! You guys sure are living the good life! Maybe you’ll both come home with some pretty bird from the Bahamas, I’ve heard they have very pretty girls over there” Mike laughed. “We won’t have any time for socializing, Mikey, we’ll be filming every day. It’s not a holiday, you know, we’re there to work” Paul reprimanded his younger brother. 

“That may be, but I’m sure there’ll be some spare time to explore the female inhabitants of that part of the Commonwealth. I wouldn’t mind trading places with you guys, that’s for sure!” “Mike! You have a girlfriend! Don’t let Angela hear you talk like that!” Jim scolded his youngest son.”And anyway, I would prefer Paul finding a nice British girl, instead of some exotic girl with a strange accent. After all, they do have a very strange accent over there, don’t they?” John and Paul exchanged a weary look. Somehow the conversation always seemed to turn to the topic of girlfriends. “So, a girlfriend then. Little Mike’s growing up! Tell us all about it, Michael!” John took another sip of his tea and looked at the photo Mike was showing him, while Paul talked to his dad.

“So you’re all settled in then? How do you like it here so far?” “It’s such a nice place, son, but I’m still not used to how large the place is. And I love the garden. And it’s kind of a relief not having all those girls in front of the house anymore. I still can’t believe you actually bought me a house! And such a lovely one as well! How can I ever thank you enough for this, my boy.” “Hey, you don’t have to thank me! It’s my present for all you have done for me, for being the greatest dad in the world. I just hope that you’ll have a pleasant life here and enjoy your free time now you don’t have to work anymore.”

After dinner John and Paul went to bed early, because they had to leave early next morning. They had already packed all of the things they needed for their trip to the Bahamas and were leaving on a chartered plane together with the whole film crew at 2 pm. 

Lying in the guestroom, of course only using one of the two single beds, they tried to make love without making any noise. But that proved to be difficult. First of all they had gotten used to their huge bed in Kenwood, and somehow their making-love-in-a-single-bed abilities had declined somewhat. 

First John fell out of bed as Paul tried to move on top of him, and the rather loud thump on the floor caused Jim to cry out from his bedroom “What’s happened? Everything alright?”Paul managed to call back “No worries, dad, everything’s okay!” and then he started giggling uncontrollably when he saw a naked John lying on the floor. John started to giggle along and climbed back on the bed, whith both of them trying to shush the other. 

Next Paul bumped his elbow against the wall in another attempt to climb on top of John, again causing a loud thump to pound through the house. “Ouch! Fuck, that hurts!” Paul winced and John chuckled. “Are you sure everything’s fine, son?” Jim called out again. “Yeah dad, just bumped my arm against the wall. Nothing to worry about!” 

And when Paul finally managed to get on top of John and they started rubbing their cocks together, their movements caused the bed to creak loudly. “Would you please stop moving around Paul? I can’t sleep with your bed creaking.” Mike called out from his room. 

“Maybe we should take this to the floor, baby” John chuckled. Paul nodded and both of them slid off the bed onto the floor. This time John tried to climb on top of Paul, but bumped his head on the bedside table causing the lamp to fall to the ground. “Shit!” John rubbed his head. “What on earth are you doing, boys? Will you please not destroy the house?” “Just go to sleep, dad, everything’s fine!” Paul managed to answer his dad, feeling completely frustrated. He had been so horny, but somehow making love to John under his dad’s roof didn’t seem very easy.

And when they finally managed to rub their cocks together, in search for release, Paul, lying beneath John, cursed. “Fuck, fuck, that hurts. Stop it John!” “What’s wrong now?”John groaned. “The floor. Shit. The sisal carpet is bloody rough, it hurts my back.“ “You can’t be serious! You want me to stop because your back hurts?” “Hey, it really hurts! Why don’t _you_ lie down on the floor and see how _you_ like it!” ”No way! My back’s much too sensitive.” “And mine isn’t? Get off me, you fool! Let’s try the other bed, maybe that one doesn’t creak.” 

John reluctantly got up and moved to the other bed, followed by Paul. “Hey, who said you could be on top now?” John said, but he was soon silenced by Paul’s lips on his own and the feeling of Paul’s hard cock rubbing against his own. They had a nice tempo going and both of them felt their climaxes getting closer. Things were going in the right direction. 

The bed didn’t creak. It broke. With a loud thud that shook the entire house, the bed broke and they found themselves tumbling to the ground. “What’s happening?” they heard both Jim and Mike shout and then they heard footsteps on the corridor coming towards their bedroom. They tried to untangle themselves from each other, the sheets and the broken bed, and Paul had just managed to jump on the other bed and cover himself with his blanket before Mike came in. John was not so lucky..... “What the hell has happened? Oh, John, you’re not wearing any pyjamas, will you cover up please? What on earth have you done to the bed?”

“You’ve broken the bed?” Jim, arriving at their bedroom and looking over Mike’s shoulder, asked. “How did you do that?” John, desperately tried to cover his naked body up with the tangled sheets, and was trying to get up from the broken bed, but the bed seemed to have decided to keep him imprisoned. “I didn’t do anything! It just broke when I turned on my other side! Why did you buy such a bad-quality bed? I could have gotten seriously hurt!” he called out from the heap of sheets, blankets, mattress and the broken bed frame. “And don’t you laugh, Macca, this isn’t funny!” Paul had started giggling uncontrollably from the other bed. “Oh yes it is John! Mike you should get your camera out, this could be the picture of a lifetime!” “Don’t you dare, Michael McCartney, don’t even think of it or......” “Or what John? Paul’s right, a photo of John Lennon who has collapsed through a bed might make me a famous photographer!”

“Now, now, boys. John’s right. This isn’t funny. I hope you’re not hurt John?” “Well at least _someone_ in concerned about my well being. Thanks Jim, but I think I’m fine.” “Help John up, will you Mike? You better sleep on the couch then, John. We’ll clean up the mess tomorrow. You guys really need to go to sleep, you’ve got a long day ahead.” “I’m okay with topping-and-tailing with Paul, Jim. We’ve been doing that so often, it’s not a problem. Now you and Mike get back to bed, and I’ll be alright.” “Well I hope you’ll keep the noise down then, otherwise none of us will be getting any sleep. I don’t know what the two of you were up to, but it was very noisy” Mike said as he looked from John to Paul and back. “We will, Mikey, we will” Paul said, ‘Goodnight dad, night Mike.”

***

“You could have helped me up instead of lying there laughing at me, you know” John grumbled as he laid himself down on the bed facing Paul. “I know, I know, I’m sorry, but the whole scene looked so ridiculous, I couldn’t help myself. Are you sure you’re not hurt?” “Oh, now he gets all concerned about me. Bit late isn’t it?” John tried to get comfortable on the small bed, but it creaked dangerously. “Better lie still, Johnny boy, or this one will collapse as well. Come here, I’ll spoon you.” “Does that mean no more sex tonight?” “I’m afraid not, Johnny, it’ll have to wait until we get to the Bahamas, I suppose. We don’t want my dad to find out about us, do we?”

John sighed and turned on his other side. Paul put his arm around John’s waist and pulled him close to his chest. “Well they do say “All good things come to those who wait” so I guess we’ll just have to be patient.” “Yeah, I guess so. But then again “Patient” is my middle name. “God, you do have a lot of middle names, don’t you “Winston”, “Romantic” and now “Patient”....... Before you know it they won’t fit in your passport anymore.” “Shut up, you fool!” John cradled himself closer in Paul’s long, strong arms. “But seriously, baby, I had been really looking forward to having sex in the presence of a famous painter.” “A famous painter? What are you on about now? I don’t want to have sex with you in front of a painter” “Rembrandt, you git, the house is called Rembrandt.” “Oh. I see. Well if you want sex in the presence of a famous painter, maybe we can rename Kenwood. We can call it “Van Gogh” or something.” “You’re really daft sometimes, Macca. Next thing you know you want to plant sunflowers, so the place looks like one of Van Gogh’s paintings.” ”Now that’s an idea! We could make love between the sunflowers! Let’s do that when we get home!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter the lads will start their filming for Help!


	69. HELP!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John and Paul enjoy a blissful break between filming at the Bahamas and Austria. A new house is bought. And then things suddenly turn sour. Very sour......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

1,400 fans had gathered at the airport to send them off when their chartered plane left for the Bahamas. Somebody had brought along some great pot, and smoking their joints during the long flight made them feel very relaxed and giddy. So they arrived at the Bahamas in good spirit. 

They were rather disappointed, though, to find the temperature wasn’t nearly as high as they had expected. And even more disappointed that they had to start filming right away. They were supposed to have the first day off, so they could acclimatize, but now they found out they were filming a scene with them on bikes. They hadn’t really ridden a bike for ages, and when they finally were settled in their hotel, John was complaining about saddle-pain, causing the other three to laugh, which in turn made John mutter offended “You could at least _pretend_ you care about my backside.” Which of course made the others laugh even louder, and Paul to wiggle those eyebrows mischievously. “I care about your backside _a lot,_ John, believe me!” 

***

For the next two weeks they filmed everyday from 8.30am (ridiculously early according to the four of them, but somehow the schedules of actors seemed totally different from musician’s schedules) and they had the nights off. Although at night they had to rehearse their lines for the next day, and John and Paul had decided on writing a few more songs for both the album that would come with their film and for the next album as well. So in the end there was not a whole lot of time left for more private matters, such as making love.

Paul also had started to write new lyrics for his “Breakfast song” as John referred to the “Scrambled eggs” song Paul had dreamt up. After checking and rechecking with almost everybody he knew, Paul had finally accepted it really was _his own_ song and decided it was time to complete it with some more serious lyrics. John was strangely uninterested in the song and didn’t seem to want to get involved in it. So Paul worked on it alone, while John was working on his new book.

After fourteen days of filming in the Bahamas, they returned to London. They had two days off before they were flying to Austria. John and Paul returned to Kenwood, to pack some things more suitable for a snowy climate and to spend some much needed time alone. 

When John opened the door to the bedroom, after dragging his luggage upstairs, feeling very tired after the long journey home, he was met with the overwhelming scent of......sunflowers! The entire bedroom was filled with huge flowerpots containing large, yellow, scenting sunflowers! And above their bed, decorating the wall, was a replica of Vincent Van Gogh’s painting “Sunflowers”. John’s mouth dropped open, hardly believing the scene in front of him, and dropping his luggage to the ground, he started laughing. “Paul, you silly git! How on earth did you manage to do this? You are some daft bugger, you are! You’ve also renamed the house “Van Gogh” I suppose?” 

Paul had walked up behind him, hugged John from behind and kissed his neck, sending shivers down John’s spine. His warm breath grazed John’s ear as he whispered “Are you up to making love in the presence of a famous painter, Johnny boy? Wanna make love between the sunflowers?” John closed his eyes, relishing Paul’s breath against his ear and the low, sexy voice making the proposal. It never ceased to amaze John how Paul’s singing voice could be so high while his speaking voice was low and sensual, especially in moments like these. It made his groin stir with anticipated arousal.

He leant back against Paul’s body and his hands covered Paul’s that rested on his belly, pulling John close to him. “God you’re such a bloody romantic, baby. I can’t believe you did this.” “I promised you we’d make love between the sunflowers, didn’t I? I am a man of my word, you know that.” He softly nibbled John’s earlobe, causing him to moan. “So how about us taking this to the bed, love, and pretend we’re in the French Provence, under a bright blue sky, with the sun shining down on us, lying naked in a field of sunflowers, that are softly waving in the warm breeze, inhaling their sweet scent, while Vincent is painting us?” John could practically feel the warm sun, hear the rustling of the sunflowers in the wind and see Van Gogh standing at his easel. Paul was so good at painting a scene with a few well chosen words. It felt magical. And that’s what the next ninety minutes were like. Magical.

***

No warm sun and waving sunflowers two days later, when they arrived in Austria, welcomed at the airport by a few thousand fans. The sun was there alright, and so was the wind, but it was a bitterly cold wind. And instead of fields of waving yellow sunflowers, there was snow. Lots of it. Here they would spend the next nine days, covered up in thick coats, wearing snow boots and gloves, while their noses froze off. Suddenly filming in Austria didn’t seem all that it was cracked up to be.

Thank God for pot. Smoking joints at least made the whole situation bearable. Too bad it made them forget the script. Too bad it made them giggle uncontrollably, so they had to do the scenes over and over again, exasperating their director. Too bad it made Paul and Ringo believe that the curling stone actually was a bomb, causing them to start running up the mountain until they fell down in the snow exhausted. Too bad it troubled John’s already bad eyesight to such a low level he mistook a tree for one of the actors and started saying his lines to his strangely unresponsive protagonist. Too bad it made George confusing left and right whenever they were supposed to ski down the mountain together. So he went off in a different direction than the other three. They had a lot of fun though. Thanks to pot.

After a week of filming, they had two days off in the snow before returning to England. John and Paul tried skiing a bit, and did like it to some extent, if only it didn’t make them so tired. So they soon retreated to their hotel room for some song writing. The Hamburg way. John topped Paul, who by now enjoyed that very much. Very, very much as a matter of fact. Sometimes he could hardly believe how much he craved to feel John inside of him. Feeling John’s cock stroke his prostate drove him crazy. It was such an amazing feeling! He always came very hard when John fucked him. But he also loved the _emotional closeness_ with John as he took him. He never felt emotionally closer to John than when he felt the man inside of him. 

That of course didn’t mean he didn’t like to top John. Nor that John stopped liking that either. So when after making love, lying lazily in each other’s arms in their king sized bed, listening to the snapping of the wood in the fireplace, they were ready for a second round, Paul topped John. Paul loved to see how John would become completely undone when he fucked him and loved John’s moans and groans every time he hit the man’s prostate. 

Lying naked on the bed, enjoying the post coital bliss and a joint, with the wood in the fireplace cracking, they listened to the demos of the songs they had written so far. John turned to his side and studied Paul’s profile as the young man blew out the smoke, his lips pursed so prettily. God, the boy was beautiful! And he was _his. His Paul._

He softy stroke Paul’s taut belly and followed the line of curly black hair up to Paul’s chest and down again. He loved the way Paul was built: endlessly long, slim, hairy legs with beautiful feet, his long, strong arms, very hairy from the elbow down, those dainty, elegant hands with the long slender fingers that felt so divine inside of him, the taut belly, narrow hips, broad chest and strong shoulders. The delicious, round, firm arse that always looked so good in his tight trousers, that beautiful, circumcised cock nestled in an abundance of black, curly hair. The long neck that he always loved to kiss. And of course his face. The luscious lips, the perfect little nose, and those eyes......those kaleidoscope eyes with the long lashes and shapely eyebrows. Paul was perfect. 

He then looked down at his own body. Hardly a hair on it, and the hair that was there, was so light-coloured, you could hardly see it. He wished he had more of it. He had lots of pubic hair, though. His cock was uncut, not nearly as beautiful as Paul’s. It was bigger though, so he had that advantage. Although he realized by now, it wasn’t the _seize_ that mattered, but how you _used_ it. He didn’t have Paul’s long legs or arms, which made his lover look so willowy. His hands were big with large visible veins, not elegant at all. And his belly......He had started to put on weight lately, causing his thighs to look thick and his belly to look pudgy. He had developed love handles and a touch of breasts. God he hated his body! 

A few weeks ago, some newspaper had called him “The Fat Beatle”, and although Paul kept telling him not to believe that stupid article, that he wasn’t fat at all, he knew the newspaper was right. He _was_ fat. And _ugly._ And hardly in Paul’s league when it came to writing songs; after all Paul even _dreamt up_ songs! Paul also had gotten more and more fluent on several instruments, especially on the piano, and John just couldn’t keep up with him. And even though being with Paul made him incredibly happy, he also started to feel more and more insecure and unhappy about himself, and didn’t know how to deal with those feelings. He had tried to put those feelings in the lyrics of a song he had written, hoping that somebody, preferably Paul, would understand that “Help!” was him crying for help for real, but Paul didn’t get the message. And neither did anybody else.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Paul looked at him with a soft smile, reaching out to hand John the joint. John took it, brought it to his lips (that were way too thin as far as he was concerned) and took a deep puff. He lazily blew out the smoke. “Just admiring your beauty, baby. Sometimes I just can’t believe you’re mine. You can have anyone you want, men or women, anyone in the world, yet you stay with _me, fat, short sighted, ugly me._ Why?” Paul turned on his side to face John. “Because I love you. Simple as that. I love _you_ and nobody else. They may try to get close to me all they want, but they will _never_ stand a chance, nobody ever will, because I love _you._ Why would I settle for anything less than you? And for the record, I think you’re _absolutely beautiful,_ you are _not fat_ and you are certainly _not ugly._ You are short sighted, though, I’ll give you that.” And then Paul’s lips found his and John felt all his worries about his appearance disappear. Reassured by Paul’s words and the taste of his lips, he knew he had nothing to worry about. For now.

***

Arriving back in London on 22 March, they spend the next two months filming for their upcoming movie, which was to be called ”Help!” They were filming a lot of scenes at the Twickenham Film Studios, where they had also filmed for “A Hard Day’s Night.” But they also spent three days on the freezing and windy Salibury Plain, at various sites in London and at a manor called Cliveden House. In between filming there were various tv and radio shows to be done and some days recording with George Martin. A busy, tiring schedule again.

Mid April Paul got a phone call from his real estate agent, telling him he might have found a suitable house in St. John’s Wood. He went to take a look at the property after a day of filming, together with John. 7 Cavendish Avenue was a three-storey Regency townhouse, and was only a short walk away from the EMI studios at Abbey Road. Some renovations needed to be done, but not too much, and a gate with and intercom system had to be installed for more privacy. There also was a rather large back garden, something Paul somehow hadn’t expected to find in London, but which he liked very much. 

Inside, John and Paul found four bedrooms, two with en-suite bathrooms, and on the top floor there were two rooms which Paul immediately knew would be perfect as a music room when joined together. The ground floor had a nice living room, a dining room, a study and a kitchen facing the back garden. Paul thought it was perfect and told the real estate agent to close the deal. 

So now they had a second house, based near the studios, paid by them together, but put in Paul’s name this time. Paul decided to place a bed in one of the rooms already, so they could use the house whenever it was too late to drive back to Kenwood after a long day of working in London, even while the house was still being renovated. Paul had set out to buy them two suitable houses and had succeeded amazingly well. He was a happy man.

***

Paul had been working endlessly on perfecting his “Scrambled Eggs” song. It was now renamed “Yesterday” and had very melancholy lyrics about longing for a time and love long lost. He had been thinking about his mum while writing the words, but thought it would be too sentimental to admit he was missing his mother. So if anyone asked, he told them it was about a love affair gone wrong.

His constant working on the song had driven people around them nearly mad. George once said that “The way he goes on and on about that song, you’d think he’s Beethoven or something.” And when he was working on the song over and over again, playing the piano at the “Help!” film set, it had annoyed Richard Lester, the film’s director, so much he had shouted to Paul to “Get that song finished or I’ll have the piano removed!” John still had remained strangely silent about the song and had not shown any interest in it.

When, on 14 June, just a few days before his 23rd birthday, after arriving from Kenwood to the studios in the early afternoon, the band had finished recording Paul’s folk song “I’ve just seen a face” and his Little Richard inspired rocker “I’m down”, Paul suggested recording “Yesterday”, things got a bit sour in the studio. “I really don’t know how I can put drums on it, Paul” Ringo said after Paul had showed them all the finished song on his acoustic guitar. 

After trying out a few arrangements with their usual instruments, that didn’t seem to work, George Martin suggested that just Paul singing while playing his acoustic guitar would do the trick. “The song is beautiful the way you’ve played it, Paul, I think we should just keep it simple that way.”

And then John exploded. “Are you suggesting Paul recording his bloody song alone, without any input from the rest of us? He gets a _solo_ song? That’s ridiculous, you’re totally bonkers! We’re a _band,_ there’s _four_ of us, and he’s not going to something without us, you hear me? I won’t have it! We’re going to record together, or we’re not recording it at all.”

“It’s a very, very beautiful song, John” George Martin said, surprised at John’s outburst “and I really think it should be just Paul and his guitar. And it’s way too good to _not_ record it. It would be nothing short of a _sin_ to not record it. So we’re going to record it, whether you like it or not, John.” 

“Well, you can record it if you like, I don’t care. But it isn’t a Beatles song, it’s not our style and if we don’t all play on it, we’re not going to release it.” John then turned to Paul. “I don’t know what you’re up to, writing a song without me and then wanting to record it without the rest of us. Who do you think you are anyway, going on and on about the damned song like you’re Mozart or something? You and I are song writing partners, you can’t just go and do something without me, you have no right to do so! I forbid you!”

Those last words made Paul see red. He turned to John and with his face only inches away from John’s, the usually so composed Paul McCartney exploded. _“Forbid me? You forbid me?_ You can’t forbid me anything, John, you’re not my boss! I’ve been trying to get you involved in the song, but you were never interested. So I did it myself, because I think it’s a good song, I’m bloody proud of it and I am going to record it!”

“And why shouldn’t I be allowed to do something on my own anyway? _You_ do things by yourself. You wrote _a bloody book_ without me and you’ve got another one coming up. You did _that_ without me, and I didn’t complain, did I? On the contrary I _applauded_ you, I was _proud_ of you! And now _I_ am doing something on my own and you think you can _forbid me_ to do so? Well, think again, Lennon!”

George, Ringo and George Martin watched the scene playing out in front of their eyes in horror, their heads turning from John to Paul and back like they were watching a tennis match. Sure, John and Paul had argued about songs before, often even. But when the argument was over, it always resulted in an improved version of the song they were arguing about. But this time the argument was getting completely out of hand. 

“That was different!” John shouted back at Paul, his face turning red. “That had nothing to do with _music,_ had nothing to do with _The Beatles_. You can’t do something that is connected to music without me!” “Who says so? _You?_ You think you call all the shots here, John? Well, I’ve got news for you, John. That isn’t the case. I’m going to record my song, whether you like it or not! Forbid me! The audacity!” Paul turned on his heels, took his guitar and sat down on the chair in front of the microphone. 

“Well, suit yourself! I’m not going to stay here and listen to you singing that stupid song. I’m going home! Give me the car-keys!” “You’re going to drive to Kenwood alone? And how am I supposed to get home then?” “You can walk, can’t you? Your house is just around the corner, isn’t it?” Paul’s eyes grew wide in astonishment. Was John telling him to sleep at Cavendish while he slept at Kenwood? Really? He wanted them to spend the night apart from each other? Had things really come down to this? After all they had shared together in the past years? Paul stood up, got the car keys from his coat pocket and threw them at John. “Fine! Go home. I don’t care! If that’s the way you want it, you can get it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So John ran out of the studio, going home without Paul. But knowing John's driving skills, that may not be the smartest idea.....


	70. LOST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> The aftermath of their fight. John doesn't show up at the studio the next day. Paul is annoyed at first but eventually he gets a little worried. And then the phone rings.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul sat down in front of the microphone, his guitar on his knees, ready to record “Yesterday”. “I’m ready to record, George” he told their producer. He felt defeated though. John had spoken to him, _shouted_ at him, in a way so harsh and cold, that it almost seemed like there was no love for Paul at all. Like he didn’t even _like_ Paul. And now they would be sleeping apart for the first time in years! Maybe he shouldn’t have shouted at John, but he was so angry! How could John think he was in the position to _forbid_ him anything! If he didn’t like the song, well, Paul could live with that. He didn’t like it, didn’t understand it, but he could live with it. But when he said he was _forbidding_ Paul to record “Yesterday” he had seen red. Nobody had the right to forbid him to do what he wanted, not even John.

“I think I’m heading off to the canteen for a cup of tea and a smoke first, George” he addressed George Martin who was walking up the stairs to the control room. “I’m too stressed to record now. I’ll feel better after a cup of tea. See you in a bit.” 

George Martin had turned around on the stairs and watched Paul walk out of the studio. “This might turn out to be a real problem. We can’t have our song writing team falling out with each other. I think I’m going to call Brian, see if we can find a way to solve this problem before it gets really out of control.” George and Ringo agreed with their producer. “I’ve never seen them like this. There’s something really wrong there. They’re usually like two peas in a pod, even when they don’t agree with each other, they always manage to compromise” George said. Ringo nodded. “I’m gonna see if Paul’s alright. He seemed really upset.”

***

Paul sat in front of a steaming cup of tea, head in his right hand, a cigarette in his left, trying to calm himself down when he heard somebody sit on the chair next to him. “Alright, Paul?” Ringo asked softly. Paul sighed deeply. No, he wasn’t alright. He wasn’t alright at all. His relationship with John might have just come to an end, how could he be alright? But he wasn’t going to let anybody know that. He would soldier on, like he had always done in the past if things went astray. “I’ll be alright in a minute, Ritch, don’t worry.”

“It really is a lovely song, you know, extremely beautiful even. Maybe the best one you’ve done so far. It’s just......well it’s strange not to be on it, you know, the three of us. I mean, we’ve never done something like that before, just one of us recording, since we’re a band......” “I guess you and George don’t want me to record it either, do you?” “The song needs to be recorded, Paul, I agree with George Martin on that. It’s simply too beautiful to not be recorded. But maybe we should try a little harder to work out an arrangement where we all play on it?” 

“If only I could, Ritch, if only I could. But I really wouldn’t know how. I hear it in my head, you know, how it should sound, and I just can’t envision drums, bass and guitars. It just doesn’t sound right.....” Ringo sighed. “Well, it’s _your_ song, and if anyone has a say on how it should sound, it’s definitely _you._ And George and me will go along with it. But I doubt John will. Do you have any idea why he’s so against it? It almost sounded like......” “Like what, Ritchie?” “Like he’s jealous, or something.” 

“Jealous? Why would he be jealous?” “I don’t know, Paul. Maybe he doesn’t like you to be in the spotlight on your own, without him? I mean, you always do _everything_ together, you’re so freakishly close. Sometimes you two seem like you’re one person to me. Maybe he feels left out, I don’t know. You should talk to him about it to find out what’s wrong, I guess.” 

“Well, that won’t be happening tonight. He’s off to Kenwood and I’ll be going to Cavendish. But maybe that’s for the best. Maybe it’s good if we both sleep on it tonight.” “Yeah, maybe it is. Although I’m not so sure John driving home alone was such a good idea. He may have his driver’s licence, but in John’s case, that doesn’t mean he actually _can_ drive....”

***

Paul recorded “Yesterday” that night, singing and playing guitar alone. He did two takes and then decided to go home. It didn’t feel good without John there. Brian had arrived at the studio earlier and listened to Paul singing from the control room together with George Martin. “My God, George, that’s really beautiful! I don’t understand why John has a problem with it? It’s absolutely exquisite!” “John doesn’t like the idea of Paul being the sole performer on the song, since they are a band, but I just can’t see how we can put the others on it. It really _has_ to be just Paul’s voice and guitar.”

“I see. Well, John’s right in a way, isn’t he? I mean, it’s not really a Beatles song this way.” “I’m not letting this song go to waste because of that, Brian. It’s way too good. Maybe it would be an idea to release it as a solo Paul McCartney record?” “No, absolutely not! We’re not breaking up the band, no way! But you’re right, it’s too good not to record it. Maybe we can give the song to one of my other artists to record?” “I think Paul should do it, Brian. You’ve heard it. It’s perfect. His voice, his guitar. It’s just perfect. It really _should_ be included on the next album. As a matter of fact, I _insist_ it be on the album.” “Well, then let’s hope John will come around. I don’t know what will happen if the two of them don’t reconcile. Without them working together, the Beatles are doomed.” 

***

Paul woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. He hadn’t slept well that night, lying in a cold, empty bed, without John next to him. How long had it been since they had spent a night apart? Must have been that time in early 1962, when John had gone missing for a couple of days, thinking Paul had died. More than three years! He had missed John terribly last night, but he knew being apart had been the right thing to do. He had been so angry with John, he might have said something he would later regret. Better to cool down a bit before talking to him again. And he _would_ have to talk to John today, whether he wanted to or not. If they wouldn’t talk about what happened yesterday, it might be the end of a years-long relationship. He couldn’t let that happen. He took some painkillers to ease his headache and left for the studio. Without breakfast. The kitchen wasn’t ready yet. But he didn’t mind. He wasn’t hungry after all. He never was, whenever he was upset.

***

“Where the fuck is he? He should have been here over an hour ago!” George paced the studio up and down. “I have better things to do with my time then waiting for his Highness to show up!” Paul sighed. “He probably just overslept, George, he’ll show up.” “He can’t set the alarm clock then?” Paul raised his eyebrows. “Set the alarm clock? John? I think you should know by now that John’s as a-technical as they come. And we......he.... has that ultramodern alarm clock. He doesn’t have a clue how to set it. I always do it for him.”

“So it’s your fault we all have been waiting for over an hour then. An hour and a half already, to be exact. You shouldn’t have let him leave on his own last night!” “Come on, George, Paul can’t be held responsible for that. John decided to go back to Kenwood alone. He’s a big boy, he can look after himself!” Ringo decided to step up for Paul. Paul sniffled. “Look after himself? Are you sure you’re talking about John Lennon? I think I’d better give him a wake-up call, otherwise he might sleep all day, knowing him.” 

Paul called Kenwood, but John didn’t answer the phone. Probably on his way over to the studio then. “He should be here in an hour at most then, depending on what time he’s left” he told the others. “Why don’t we jam a little in the meantime, warm ourselves up before John gets in.”

But an hour and a half later, John still hadn’t arrived. So Paul decided to call him again. There still was no answer. Now Paul started to worry a little. What if John had an accident on his way over? He wasn’t the best of drivers, to put it mildly. Or maybe he was sleeping off a king-hell of a hung over after maybe drinking too much last night and just didn’t hear the phone? Or maybe he’d taken sleeping pills.......Oh God, what if he overdosed on sleeping pills? Suddenly Paul was panicking. “Mal! Mal! Can you drive over to Kenwood to fetch John? No wait, I’ll come with you.” 

But just as he was putting on his coat, the studio’s receptionist called to studio 2 telling them she had John on the line. Should she put him through? Paul sighed relieved. At least John wasn’t dead. “Yeah, put him through, Elsie.” He picked up the receiver. “Well hello, John. I’ve been trying to call you, but you didn’t answer the phone. You do realize you should have been in the studio like three hours ago? We’re supposed to work on ‘It’s only love” today and we all have been waiting patiently.....” he saw George shake his head furiously “.....and not so patiently for you to arrive. Forgot to set the alarm clock then?” “Paul, can you come over and pick me up?”

***

“Pick you up? Why can’t you drive over yourself?” “I can’t. I.....I don’t know where I am.” “You don’t know where you are? God, John how much did you have to drink last night? You’re at Kenwood, you fool. Now just get in the car and get over here!”

“Yeah, well that’s just it. I’m not at Kenwood. I’ve stayed at some Inn last night.” “You’ve stayed at some Inn? What on earth for?” he turned around to face the others standing there, listening in on Paul’s end of the conversation. He raised his eyebrows and covered the receiver with his hand. “He stayed at some Inn instead of at Kenwood. So that’s why he didn’t answer the phone.” He turned his attention to John again. “Why didn’t you return to Kenwood then?” “I meant to return to Kenwood, you git! I just.....I just got lost on my way there.” 

“You got lost on your way home? How can you get lost? We’ve driven that road hundreds of times!” _“You_ were always driving, Paul, _I_ wasn’t.” “No you weren’t driving, but you sat _next_ to me. Don’t you ever pay attention where we go, then?” “Not really, no.” “Why didn’t you follow the signs then?” “Signs? What signs? I didn’t see any signs to Kenwood.” “Of course there are no signs to Kenwood, you fool! That’s the name of your house! They don’t put up signs with the name of your house!” “Don’t they? Why ever not?”

“Because.....you have to follow the signs to the _town,_ John, the signs to _Weybridge!_ God I can’t believe you’re that stupid.” ”Well, I didn’t see any signs to Weybridge either, Paul, I didn’t see _any_ signs at all!” “Well, maybe you should have looked?” “How am I supposed to look for signs when I’m _driving?_ I have to keep my attention on the road! I can’t do _that, and_ look for signs at the same time, can I? Can’t do two things at the same time!” 

Paul groaned. “Well, the rest of the world can, John, _everybody_ reads signs while they’re driving.” “Really? Well, then the rest of the world acts really irresponsible and dangerously. You have to keep your eyes on the road when driving.”

“Yeah, well, never mind. Where are you now then? So I can give you directions to get over here.” "I haven’t got a clue. I mean, I drove and drove and I didn’t recognize anything. And then the car just stopped.” “The car stopped? _Why?”_ “How should I know? Only thing I know is that I’ve been driving for three bloody hours and then the stupid car just decided to stop.” _“Three hours?_ You’ve been driving for _three hours?_ John, it’s not even an _hour’s drive_ to Kenwood! Where on earth did you go? Didn’t you realize you should have reached your destination long before? You just kept driving? No wonder the car stopped. You probably ran out of gasoline.” 

“How am I supposed to know I’ve run out of gasoline then?” “There’s a meter on the dashboard, you fool! So where the hell are you now?” “I don’t know, Paul. It was dark and the car had stopped, and I had to walk for _fifteen minutes,_ you hear me, _fifteen bloody minutes,_ to get to a town! Thank God there was an Inn, otherwise I would have had to sleep on the side of the road!” 

“So you’ve slept at an Inn. And in what town is that Inn located exactly then?” Paul sighed desperately. “Don’t know. Didn’t ask, did I. I had other things on my mind.” _“Other things?_ Like _what_ John? What could be more important than finding out where you’ve stranded?” “Things like the dent in the car.“ _“The dent in the car!?”_ “Do you really have to repeat everything I say, Paul? It’s bloody annoying! Yeah, the dent in the car.” “And why on earth is there a dent in the car, John?”

“Well, I realized I might have taken a wrong turn somewhere and tried to turn around. I really don’t understand why they put a tree in the middle of the road. Pretty dangerous that is.” Paul groaned again, getting more desperate by the minute. How could he have possibly fallen in love with someone as out of touch with reality like John was? 

“My God, John. How did you _ever_ pass your driving test? No, no, don’t tell me: you’ve bribed the driving examiner.” “I did _not_ do such a thing! How can you think that of me? Just promised him tickets for our show, since his daughters were big Beatlefans.” “That’s the _exact_ definition of bribing, John. But never mind. Where are you staying then?” “Oh I know the answer to _that_ question, I’m not _completely_ stupid, as you seem to think.” Paul rolled his eyes. Good thing John couldn’t see him. “It’s called “The Fox and Hound” this place I’m in. Oh Paul, and don’t forget to bring some money. I didn’t have my wallet on me, and the room has to be paid for. And last night’s diner. And this morning’s breakfast. So hurry up will you, it’s pretty boring over here. See you soon!”

“John, wait, wait, don’t hang up! I still don’t know.....” But John didn’t hear him anymore. He’d hung up. Without telling him the name of the town he was staying at. Just the name of the Inn: “The Fox and Hound”. _Every_ town in Britain had an Inn called “The Fox and Hound” for crying out loud! How was he supposed to fetch John if he had _no idea_ where that wretched man was? 

He turned around to the others, desperation written all over his face, to find out they were practically lying on the floor with laughter. “This is not funny, you guys, not funny at all! How can I get to John when I don’t know where he is?” “It _is_ funny Paul. It’s _hilarious!_ This could be the script to our next movie!” George hiccupped. “Yeah, would be a great comedy, that! He gets lost, smashes the car, runs out of gasoline, and hasn’t got a clue where he is, and he has no money. How _does_ he manage to mess up so terrible in just a few short hours?” Ringo had tears streaming down his eyes.

“Because he’s a fool, that’s why! That’s the only explanation. And then people say he’s the _clever Beatle._ Clever Beatle, my arse! And what do we do now?” “I suppose we will just have to wait until he calls back again, to ask what’s keeping you so long. And of course it will _all_ be your fault!” Paul threw his arms up in the air in utter despair. “Well, I guess you’d better all go home guys. It’s gonna be a long wait until he calls again, and then I have to drive over to whatever place he’s at, and by the time we get back to London, it’ll be late at night. I guess we won’t be recording anything today.”

“Go home and miss out on all the fun? Can’t _wait_ to hear what he has to say when he calls back!” George laughed. “We’ll stay to keep you company, Paul. We can just jam a little, play some cards or something. Sometimes I don’t know how you keep up with him, you know.” 

Paul sighed. “Sometimes I don’t know that myself. I must be a masochist or something. But you know, he’s really alright, except when he’s not. But when he’s not......” He sighed again. “It’s just, you know, we had such a fight yesterday and he said some really awful things to me, yet now he wants me to come to the rescue. Like nothing has happened between us yesterday. I don’t understand him sometimes.....I mean.....well.....you know.....just.....let’s jam a bit, alright? Might keep my mind from worrying for a while.”

***

Three hours later John called back to ask if somebody knew what time Paul would get to him. He’d been waiting for hours and the wretched man still hadn’t shown up! When Elsie, the receptionist, told him Paul was still at the studio, he demanded to get Paul on the phone straight away. “What on earth are you still doing there, Paul? You were supposed to come and get me! What is this, trying to get back at me or something? You’d better get your arse over here as soon as possible, I’m dying of boredom over here.” “Well, I guess you’ll have to stay there a bit longer, won’t you John? Since I’m still in London because _you didn’t fucking tell me where you are!”_

_“Yes, I did!_ I told you I was at “The Fox and Hound” I’m sure I told you that.” “Yes, you did John, but you didn’t tell me in _which one of the three thousand “Fox and Hounds” around Britain you are!_ I need to know what _town_ you’re in, John. The name of the fuckin 'town! And you just hung up before I could ask you!” “Why didn’t you call back to ask me then?” “Oh, Lord, give me patience! John, how can I call you back if I _don’t know where you are?_ Did you leave your brain on the washing basin yesterday morning? Because it sure looks like you’ve completely lost it, you know. So, _where are you?”_ “I don’t know what the place is called, Paul.” “Then _go and ask_ somebody, for heaven’s sake. _And don’t hang up!_ Go and ask!”

He heard John call out to somebody “What’s this place called?..... What?..... Okay.....Paul are you still there?” “I’m waiting patiently, dear.” “The town’s called Navestock Common.” _“Navestock Common?_ Never heard of it. Where the hell’s Navestock Common then?” Again he heard John talk to somebody. “They say it’s a village near Brentwood.” “Brentwood? _Brentwood?_ Isn’t that on the completely other side of London? Mal? Mal! Can you get me a road map? Brentwood. I’m sure that’s on the wrong side of London. How _the hell_ did you get there, John?” “How I got here? By car of course, how else could I have goten here? That's a really stupid question, Paul,” Paul rolled his eyes in disbelieve once more. That man really was impossible!

Mal arrived with the road map and Paul’s thoughts about Brentwood were confirmed: Brentwood was at the _north-east_ of London, while Weybridge was at the _south-west!_ “How the hell did you manage to end up _there,_ John? Did you drive all the way through London?” “No, of course I didn’t. I’m not _that_ stupid. I remembered I had to go in the direction of Slough and then take the M25. And that’s _exactly_ what I did. So I have _no idea_ where I went wrong.” 

Paul followed the road on the map with his index finger. They _did_ have to go in the direction of Slough and then take the M25...... _southbound._ But apparently John had gone _northbound._ And the M25 then went east towards.....Brentwood. ”John, you took the M25 in the _wrong direction!_ How could you have been so stupid?” “The road goes in _two directions?_ Why on earth does it do that? How could I have known that? That’s bloody confusing.”

“Yeah, I know, John, it’s confusing. For some people at least. Well, now I know where you are, I can come and get you. It will take a while for me to get there, though, especially in the rush hour, but I’m on my way, together with Mal.” “Why is Mal coming with you then?” “Because _someone_ has to drive _your car_ back, while _I_ drive _you_ back in the car we use to get to Navestock Common, you git!” “Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”

“So, just stay put, alright, don’t go _anywhere_ until we get there, John, unless it’s to the loo. Don’t want to lose you again.” “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere, except home with you, baby. And Paul?” “What now?” “Bring some extra money, will you. Not just for the room, dinner and breakfast. I had lunch as well. You kept me waiting for so long I got hungry again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, John's alive and well. And located. But of course that doens't mean things are alright between them.......


	71. WHEN IN ROME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Paul picks John up from The Fox and Hound, and they have a serious chat. And then they're on the road again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“Sometimes I think you’re a saint, Paul, the way you always know how to deal with John and his moods. And the patience you always have with him! He can be so bloody difficult and lazy. But you always manage to put him back on track. I think you’re the only one he ever listens to.” “I’m no saint, Mal, not at all. I think I can be just as difficult to deal with sometimes. I actually know I’m not easy to deal with in the studio. People get annoyed because I want to do things over and over again until they’re right. I’m too much of a perfectionist, I know that about myself. But I can’t seem to help myself. So I’m no saint, Mal. Nobody is. We all have our bad traits. It’s not just John.”

‘Yeah, but John has more of them than anyone else, doesn’t he? I mean, I don’t know what that fight was all about yesterday, but I thought he was really out of line there. I don’t understand what his problem with your song is anyway. I think it’s really beautiful.” “Thanks for your vote of confidence, Mal, but as I’ve said, I’m not easy either. And I’m sure John has a reason for his behaviour yesterday. And for his behaviour as a whole. He didn’t exactly have a good childhood, did he, with his parents leaving him and his mother dying.”

“Your mother died when you were much younger, Paul, and you’re not nearly as difficult to deal with as John is.” “Ha, there you are! You’ve just admitted I’m difficult as well! But seriously, Mal, it’s not all John’s fault. And he can be really warm and kind as well, don’t forget that.”

“We’re almost there now. Shall I take care of John’s car, get it fuelled up, see what the damage is and take it to a garage to get fixed? Then you can take my car to drive yourself and John home.” “Sounds like a good idea to me, Mal. Gives me a chance to talk to him, see if I can figure out what’s wrong. Not that I’m looking forward to it, but I guess it has to be done. Oh look, that must be it “The Fox and Hound”. Just stop right here. I’ll go in and find John and see if he has any recollection of the whereabouts of the car. Although I probably shouldn’t get my hopes up on that one.”

***

Paul paid the bill and shoved John in the car. They hadn’t said anything else but a polite “Hello” and Paul managed to find the abandoned car (not because of John’s directions though, but because the Inn’s patron knew where it was) and dropped Mal off. “Thanks a million, Mal. Don’t know where we would be without you. Drive home safely!”

Paul sighed. Now the long drive home with John in the car would start. The first 20 minutes went by in complete silence, John staring out of the side window, Paul with his eyes on the road in front of him. 

“John?” “Hmm?” “Can we talk about it?” “About what?” Paul sighed again. John wasn’t about to make this easy then. “About what happened yesterday?” “I took a wrong turn, Paul, could happen to anyone.” I’m not talking about you getting lost on a route you drive on a daily basis, although I could say an awful lot about that. I’m talking about what happened in the studio, John, and more specifically about what happened between us there. About us getting in such a fight that we weren’t able to talk things out anymore and which caused us to sleep apart for the first time in years. What happened?”

He watched John from the corner of his eye and saw his mouth twitch nervously. “John?” “Why did you let me leave the studio alone?” Oh, so now it was all his fault? _John_ left alone and got lost and now _he_ was to blame? His blood started to boil, but he managed to keep calm. Getting all wound up would get them nowhere. “Because you wanted to leave, John. I didn’t want you to, but you wanted it. And who am I to tell you what to do or not to do? You’re your own man, you can make your own choices. You do make your own choices. Just because we’re partners, doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to make different choices. Just like we’re not entitled to command or forbid each other anything. We’re allowed to have different opinions, as long as we respect each other’s opinions, and not try to force our opinion upon each other. And certainly not _forbid_ each other to have different opinions. Having said that, I really missed you last night.”

“I’ve missed you too, didn’t sleep at all last night.“ They fell silent again for a while. “John?” “Hmmm?” “Why are you so against me recording “Yesterday“? Do you really hate the song that much?” “I don’t hate the song itself, Paul. It’s what it _represents_ that I don’t like.” “What it represents? I think you’ve lost me there, John. What do you think it represents?”John sighed deeply and for a few moments Paul thought John wasn’t going to answer. 

_“Perfection. Genius. Beauty. Loss. You.”_ “I don’t follow you, John.“ _“Perfection._ Because the song _is_ perfect isn’t it? The uttermost example of perfection. I can never produce anything as perfect as that. And _Genius,_ because it comes from the mind of a real genius. Only a genius can _dream_ up a song. I could never do that, but you can. _Beauty,_ because it’s a beautiful song sung by a beautiful man. You are the pinnacle of beauty, when you sit there with your guitar and that melodic voice. I could never be like that, I’m just the “Fat Beatle” with that horrible voice. _Loss,_ because I feel like I’m losing you. You don’t really need me, you can do it all by yourself: write an entire masterpiece without my help, sing it without me, play it without me, it just feels like I’m losing you, that you’ll go off on your own and leave me and the band behind. And _You,_ because the song is so _You,_ so truly _You_ that it hurts. Because it’s _You without Me._ ”

Paul had parked the car on the side of the road while he listened to John’s words. Was that how his song made John feel? Hurt? Insecure? Jealous......? “Are you.....are you.....jealous of me, John? Because if you are, I can assure you, you’ve got nothing to be jealous about! You’ve written songs that are absolutely perfect: “Help!” and “You’ve got to hide your love away” and “If I Fell” are as perfect as they come! And that new one you’ve written “In My Life”? If that isn’t perfection I don’t know what is. And you don’t have to dream up a song to be a genius. You are a genius yourself! I could never write lyrics like you, I always struggle with lyrics and yours are always so amazingly good. And you write books! I could never do that! And your great drawings! John, _you_ are the real genius between us. _You!_ And stop calling yourself fat. You are _not_ fat. _You are beautiful!_ You have no idea how beautiful you are, I think you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, and I assure you, I’m not alone in that.”

John was staring down at his hands looking rather defeated. Paul grabbed his hands, brought them up to his mouth and kissed every knuckle tenderly. “And you’ll never lose me, Johnny. _Never._ I’m not going anywhere without you, not professionally, not privately, not in anyway. Because we belong together, Johnny, every day, in every way. My whole world revolves around you, John. And yes, the song is me, but it doesn’t mean it’s me _without you._ Because _you_ were next to me when I dreamt it up, _you_ were at the breakfast table with me when we called it “Scrambled Eggs”, _you’ll_ be there in the studio with me when I record it, _your_ name will be next to mine on the song credits, the song will be on _our_ album, the album of the band we created _together,_ brought to the top _together._ You’re there in my song, John, as you are there in every aspect of my life, always and forever, I promise you.”

***

Paul drove them back to Kenwood. They had a light meal together, in complete silence, both of them deep in thought. Their fight in the studio and the aftermath had spooked them both. How could the communication between them had gone so wrong? How could the wires have gotten so crossed, they hadn’t been able to untangle them? They had always managed to talk things through and compromise, or even just agreed to disagree when they didn’t manage a compromise. Why did things go so wrong now? Could this be the first crack in their relationship? The beginning of the end? They couldn’t let that happen, could they, after all they’d been through together, after all they achieved together, after all the love they’d shared. Still shared.

“John?” ”Paul?” “I won’t record “Yesterday“ if you don’t want me to. I don’t want a song to stand between us, to ruin what we have together.” John, who had been staring at his hands again, looked up to meet Paul’s eyes and slowly shook his head. “No, Paul, you have to record it. It is a truly beautiful song. You can’t let it go to waste.” “I could give it to someone else to sing.” “You’re the only one capable of doing the song credit, love, because you’re the only one who knows what it’s really about. The only one, except for me of course.” 

“You know what’s it about?” “The loss of your mum, obviously. The entire world will think it’s about a girl you’ve lost, but you and I both know what it’s really about. And that’s why you’re the only one who can give a heartfelt rendition. You have to record it. Even though I would prefer you not to do it. You’re entitled to record your song, just as I am entitled to write a book. But let’s make a compromise. I’ll agree to let you record it for the album, and you’ll promise we’ll not release it as a single. How’s about that?”

Paul reached out his hand across the table. “Deal.” They shook hands on it, and Paul leaned back in his chair with a mischievous smile on his lips. “I want you to promise me something too, Johnny.” “Oh yeah? What’s that then?” “If you ever feel the need to run away from me again after an argument, call somebody to drive you.”

***

George Martin had suggested they’d put strings on “Yesterday” but Paul didn’t like the idea at all. “I don’t want it to sound like Mantovani, all syrupy and such.” But George had suggested a classical string quartet, and after listening to some music played by string quartets, Paul liked the idea. “But I don’t want any of that vibrato, George, I don’t really like that.”

John had watched as Paul and George Martin worked on an arrangement for a string quartet, and was amazed at the way Paul would voice his ideas about how he would like the cello to sound and about a high note for the violin. Where did his partner get all those ideas from? He never played a violin or cello and yet knew exactly what sound he wanted. When did he develop such skills? He still wasn’t happy about the song being given a place on the “Help!” album, and was afraid the added strings would make The Beatles the laughing stock of other rock bands, but he had promised Paul he would let him have his way with the song. Paul indeed did have the right to do something without him. After all, John’s second book was to be released in a week’s time and he had done that without Paul. And Paul always supported him in everything he did. Maybe he should learn to be more supportive to his partner.

***

They started a short European tour a week later. Sadly, they didn’t have enough time off to visit some of the places in Paris that were so dear to them both. It was straight off to Lyon after Paris and then to Italy. They had never been to Italy, but after their shows in Milan and Genoa, they knew it had been a terrible idea to go there in the summer. They played at outdoor venues, and wearing their thick woollen suits in the burning sun, their afternoon shows were an absolute ordeal.

After coming off stage in Milan, Paul, sweating profoundly, was so dehydrated he almost collapsed. And John had a splitting headache from squeezing his eyes against the sun. Rome was the next city and they had a day off there. George suggested they’d go see some of the city’s sites together, but Brian thought it wouldn’t be a good idea to go out as a foursome. They would surely get recognised and that might cause a dangerous situation. He suggested George and John to go out together and Paul and Ringo. Disguised of course. John and Paul didn’t agree. Not about the disguises, of course. They didn’t agree about the pairing. If they were going to explore the Eternal City, they would do so together, thank you very much! And as always, John and Paul got their way.

So after putting on fake moustaches and hats, they hit the town together. “Let’s go and see the Coliseum first, Paul. I’ve been told it’s fabulous.” So that’s where their feet led them. Standing before the giant Roman theatre, Paul sighed in awe. “God, Johnny, can you believe it’s almost 2000 years old and still standing here?” “Well. It’s not completely intact, is it? But it’s still a stunning building.” “Let’s go in to see what it looks like inside.”

And then they were standing inside of the famous Roman amphitheatre, looking around them in amazement. “What would it be like to perform in here? Do you think they’d let us perform in here? Just imagine the vibes you’d get from performing surrounded by 2000 years of history, Johnny” “I’m not sure if they still use it, babe, but if they do, I doubt they’ll let us perform in here. Think about all those girls wetting themselves at our shows. All that urine might ruin those ages-old stone benches.” “Yuk, John! The things you think about!”

The next place of interest they wanted to see was the Pantheon. Walking towards the building, dating from the second century, they could hardly believe their eyes. Paul grabbed John’s hand and whispered “This can’t be real. I thought those buildings in Paris were beautiful, but this is even better. And it’s centuries older as well. It’s unbelievable.” 

They entered the “Rotunda” through the enormous porches with the Corinthian pillars. The circular building was immense with a dome over 40 meters wide and high and completely intact. They wondered about the opening in the roof of the dome, the oculus, and decided to listen in on a English speaking guide telling some tourists about it. Apparently they left the dome open at the top so the dome would be able to move and not cave in, in case of an earthquake. “They were clever lads, those Romans” John stated.

Next stop was the famous Trevi-fountain. Paul frowned at the elaborated sculptured fountain. It was certainly impressive, but a bit too much for his liking. John loved it though. “You know what they say, Paul? They say that if you stand with your back to the fountain and throw two coins in the water, you’ll be sure to return to Rome one day. So let’s do that, shall we? I’d love to come back here one day.” 

“And do you know about the other myth, Johnny?” “What other myth is that, baby?” “Well, if you close your eyes when you throw the coins in and say “Arrivederci Roma, tibi gratia volo, in Tiberis aqua tua fluit” that you will then meet your eternal love in the Eternal City?” John raised his eyebrows. “What on earth does that mean then?” It means “Goodbye Rome, I want your mercy, your water flows to the Tiber." Didn’t you ever pay attention at the Latin classes?” “John’s mouth dropped open? “What a strange thing to say. And how come you know all this, anyway? Oh, wait a minute, don’t tell me......” “My dad’s encyclopaedia!”

“So let’s throw some coins in the fountain, John, close our eyes and say those words then, right?” “But I’ve already met my eternal love, Paul. That being you, of course.” “Yeah, I know, and I have met mine, but it wouldn’t hurt to confirm it, would it, my eternal love?” 

***

After a nice lunch, consisting of a “Pizza Margarita” and a shared bottle of red sparkling “Lambrusco” wine, at a terrace facing the famous Spanish Steps, they decided to go down to the river Tiber. They did have a thing for rivers, after all. Liverpool’s Mersey, the Elbe in Hamburg, the Parisian Seine. And now Rome’s Tiber.

They crossed the “Ponte Sant' Angelo” and decided to visit the Vatican. They managed to purchase tickets to see the Sistine Chapel. They stood inside the sacred chapel, admiring the frescos on the wall by Michelangelo and Botticelli, but Michelangelo’s frescos on the chapel’s vault especially made a deep impression on the two young men. “This has got to be one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, babe. Just imagine being able to paint like that” John whispered in Paul’s ear. “I know, it’s really breath taking. You’d almost believe God really exists, when you see such beauty.” “Well, if seeing beauty means you start believing in God, I must be very religious then, seeing the epitome of beauty lying next to me every night.” 

***

They enjoyed a lovely Italian dinner at small Roman Trattoria near the Forum Romanum. The waiter, who spoke quite a bit of English, had managed to explain to them what the several items on the menu were. They started off with “Spagetti alla Carbonara” which turned out to be a delicious pasta dish with eggs, bacon and cheese. For the main course they had chosen “Saltimbocca alla Romana” a lovely piece of veal covered with raw ham and served with a white wine sauce. The “Chianti” wine they had to accompany their meal, was a revelation as well. For dessert they had opted for “Tiramisu” after the waiter told them it was absolutely the most popular dessert in Rome, that it was the speciality of the house and they certainly wouldn’t regret it. And although they had bad memories of a certain ”Specialité de la Maison” in Paris (where they had been presented with snails), they decided to jump through the rabbit hole and they didn’t regret it this time around. Boy was that good!

“I could eat this every day of my life!” Paul had muttered with a mouth full of the creamy dessert. “Yeah, I’m sure you could. You can eat all you want and keep your slender appearance. If I would eat this every day, the press would really have a reason for calling me the Fat Beatle.” “You’re not fat, John, how many times do I have to tell you so? And by the way, I do have to watch what I eat, I gain weight rather fast if I don’t watch my eating habits, you know.” “Yeah, sure, you’ve never been fat for a single day in your life.” “Oh, I have been, John. I’ve been quite heavy for some time in my youth. Mike even used to call me “Fatty” for a while.” “No, that can’t be true!” “Well, it’s true, ask him if you don’t believe me. But once again, Johnny, _you are not fat._ Now eat your dessert, before I’ll scope it all down myself.” 

***

Back at the hotel, they had a lot of fun in their bedroom. John had draped the sheets around his naked body, like a Roman toga, and had proclaimed loudly “Veni, Vidi, Vici” (he apparently had paid some attention during his Latin classes), causing Paul to fall down on his knees, bowing, saying “Hail Ceasar” before giving John a blow job worthy for a Roman Emperor. After all, when in Rome......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things seem to be alright between John and Paul again. Until they go wrong again of course......


	72. CRACKS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy.....
> 
> Their tour continues and takes them to the USA again, where they meet theri hero. But somehow "Yesterday" still stands between them. And something else comes between them as well, causing cracks in their relationship........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

After Rome, it was off to France again, to Nice this time, and after that to Spain, for shows in Madrid and Barcelona. In Madrid, Brian had taken them to see a bullfight in the city’s bullring “Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas”, where they would be performing themselves the next day. Brian had loved it, George had been pretty excited by it as well, and John was rather taken by the “Toreadors” in their traditional costumes. Paul and Ringo however, were disgusted. Ringo said it was the saddest thing he’d ever seen, and Paul hated the way the bull was weakened and weakened and finally killed. The majestic animal didn’t deserve to die in such a miserable way.

A thing all four of them were disgusted by, was the violence the police used against their fans. They were really beating those kids up to keep them in line! Another thing that bothered them in Spain was the fact the tickets were rather expensive, so the audience existed mainly of the rich and their children, while their real fans stood outside the bullring, not able to see their heroes. They tried to talk to Brian about their worries, but he told them he couldn’t change things. The Spanish government was in charge of the police and the Spanish promoters decided upon the venues and ticket prices, so his hands were tied.

All in all, they hadn’t enjoyed this tour so much, and were happy to return to England. John and Paul decided to spend their week off at Kenwood. It was early July and the weather was pleasant enough to spend time in their swimming pool, relaxing in the sun and making love out in the open beneath a starry sky. They also had some song writing to do. Having finished “Help!” the next album was due to be released in December.

They talked about the things the coming months had in store for them: the premiere of “Help!” and the release of the album, an American tour, recording the newly written songs for the next album and collecting their MBE at Buckingham Palace. 

“I still can’t believe we’ve been awarded MBE’s. It’s so surreal, you know, me, just a Liverpool lad from the council houses, receiving such an honour! I’ve never felt more proud then at the moment I told dad about it. And he was so proud of me! I could practically hear him glow with pride through the phone. I can’t wait to go into the palace and stand in front of the Queen. If only mum could have been there to witness it.....”

They were lying on the sun beds next to the pool, trying to get a bit of a tan. “Well, you know I’m not a royalist, but I do realize it’s a big honour and I think we more than deserved it. After all, we bring in loads of money for the UK, paying high taxes and all that. I’m really pissed off, though, by those previous recipients that sent their awards back, saying we don’t deserve it. They think that fighting a war or being in politics is more important than bringing joy to millions of people through music. It really, really pisses me off. So much, I’m not going to the Ivor Novello awards lunch. I’d probably not be able to be polite.”

“But John, you and me have been awarded five Ivor Novello awards! _Five!_ That’s quite an honour as well, you know. We can’t just not collect them!” “Well, you can go and collect the awards for the both of us. You always manage to stay polite and put on a sunny smile, even when you’re pissed off. And I know you’re pissed off as well about those idiots sending back their MBE’s, Macca.” 

Paul sighed. “Yeah, it’s ridiculous. Did you read that some Member of Parliament sent his MBE back, complaining that he didn’t want to be “on the same level as some vulgar nincompoops”? He thinks he’s way above us, because he’s a politician. Like being a musician is some dirty job. But millions of people around the world _know us and love us,_ while hardly _anybody knows him,_ let alone _loves_ him. And he doesn’t bring huge amounts of money to the UK by his work, like we do.” 

Paul sighed again. “So you don’t wanna come to the Ivor Novello luncheon, then? I really don’t fancy going alone, Johnny.” “It’s better I stay at home, baby, believe me. It might just please Brian as well if we don’t attend together.” Paul raised his eyebrows. “Please Brian? I thought he usually wanted us to attend those things as a _united front._ Why should he be pleased if I come alone now?” “He’s been urging me again lately to spend some time apart from you. Says there are rumours about the two of us going around that might damage our careers and personal lives. I’ve told him where to stick it of course.” 

Paul frowned. “Rumours about us? We’re always so careful! Well if that’s true, we’d better be more careful from now on, Johnny. Don’t wanna end up in jail, do we? So I’d better go alone then. Don’t like it, but if there’s anything we can do to stop those rumours from spreading further, we should do it. Except spending nights apart that is. I won’t go there.” “I won’t let you go there, baby. I want you in my bed every single night! But I think I might be able to let you go for an afternoon. Just one afternoon, mind you.” He turned to his side and kissed Paul’s cheek. “The sun is getting really hot. Let’s go for a swim, baby.”

So Paul went to collect the Ivor Novello Awards on his own. He arrived 40 minutes late, however, because he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed and John’s arms. But nobody seemed to mind he was late. Nobody in the entire world seemed to mind if one of them was late. They were Beatles after all, and everybody always waited patiently for a Beatle. 

He didn’t enjoy the lunch much, the food wasn’t that good and the acceptance speeches seemed to take hours. So when Paul accepted his and John’s awards, he decided to keep his speech short: “Thanks. I hope nobody sends theirs back now.”

***

After the World premiere of “Help!” the band rehearsed for their upcoming American tour in August. Before they left for the USA, they did a performance for a tv show called “Blackpool Night Out” and Brian urged Paul to play “Yesterday” alone with his acoustic guitar, accompanied by a prerecorded string quartet. “I’m not going to stand there on my own! I’d feel completely stupid without the others there” Paul had argued. 

John couldn’t help it, but he felt the green monster creeping up on him again. Paul was getting the spotlight in a solo performance again. Not just on the record, but now on stage as well. He didn’t like it one bit, and neither did George. “Paul’s not a solo-artist, Brian, he’s part of a band. I don’t think it’s fair on us, is it, if he gets all the attention. If he gets a solo-appearance, then I want one too.” John shot him a sour look. “I don’t think anybody’s waiting for you to do something on your own, Harrison, you’re not exactly in Paul’s league, are you? But seriously Brian, I don’t think Paul should sing “Yesterday” alone.” “There’s a lot of demand for the song, John. They want Paul to perform it, so that’s what we’ll do” Brian answered.

So there Paul stood, having exchanged his bass for his acoustic guitar, feeling very nervous, waiting for George to announce the song. “And now we’re going to do something we’ve never done before. It’s a track of our new album. It’s called “Yesterday” and now for Paul McCartney from Liverpool opportunity knocks!” Paul’s mouth twitched nervously, and he felt very uneasy after George’s reference to the talent show “Opportunity Knocks”. So George was still mad about him singing his song alone. He hoped John would be alright with it, he didn’t want to get in an argument with him over his song again. 

He was surprised and relieved to see John walk up to him after he performed “Yesterday” to an almost silently listening audience (they actually _listened_ for a change!) holding a bouquet of flowers. He accepted the flowers, a bit shyly, but just as he wanted to thank John, John said “Thank you Ringo, that was lovely” and then turned around holding the flowers in his hand, leaving Paul with just the stems of the apparently fake bouquet. So, John was mad as well. Paul sighed as he changed his guitar for his bass and put on his fake smile. Sometimes he wished he’d never dreamt up that bloody song.

***

The first performance of their American tour was on the Ed Sullivan Show. And once again Paul was supposed to sing “Yesterday” alone. Just before he went on with his guitar, still feeling a bit weird about going on without the others, but confident he could do it, the floor manager asked if he was nervous. “No, not really,” The man raised his eyebrows. “You should be, you know, there are 73 million people watching you.” And of course the nerves then kicked in big time. From the corner of his eye he saw John standing on the side of the stage, and searched John’s eyes to steady his nerves, but the look on the man’s face didn’t do anything to ease Paul’s nerves. After finishing his performance, John walked up to him and spoke into the microphone with a wicked smile “Thank you Paul, that was just like him.” Paul decided he was never going to perform “Yesterday” again.

In their hotel that night, while they were undressing to go to bed, John noticed Paul was strangely silent. Usually he was very vibrant and animated after a show, his body still fueled by adrenaline, but he seemed very subdued. And John realized why. “Sorry, baby, for saying that. You gave a beautiful rendition of “Yesterday”, so exquisite. And you looked so gorgeous standing there in the spotlight. I was so proud of you, but….” John groaned “I just can’t seem to help myself. I just feel so jealous. Because I could never write a song like that, never sing like that, never look as gorgeous like that. And I just want to be standing next to you on stage, and I just can’t help myself, I just feel so insecure…… Sorry, love.”

Paul sighed. “I was so nervous, John, and I was looking at you for some reassurance, but when I saw the look on your face…..” “Sorry, baby, sorry,” “I’m not going to sing the bloody song again. Not ever. No matter what Brian or others say, I won’t go on a stage alone ever again. I hate it.” John wrapped his arms around his lover and hugged him close. “I’m sorry, Paulie, I’m such a bastard sometime. Of course you should sing your song. It’s beautiful! Don’t let my jealous behaviour keep you from performing a song that is more than worth to be performed.” “No, I don’t want to perform it again, John, I hate to be on stage without you.” 

John kissed the dark hair. “I hate to be anywhere without you, baby. I love you, you know. It might not have looked like that tonight, but I do, you know. I love you more than I can say. Please forgive me for being such a bastard?” “Well you can’t really help being a bastard, can you? After all, “Bastard” is your middle name.” “No it isn’t. It’s “Romantic” remember?” “Are you sure? I’m sure it was “Bastard” or was it “Diplomacy”? I’m not sure which.” “It’s “Romantic” I’m sure of it.”

Paul chuckled. “God, I’m so glad I’m not marrying you! Just imagine I’d have to say all those names: ”I, James Paul McCartney take thee, John Winston Romantic Diplomacy Bastard Lennon……” I would surely forget a few of them…….”

***

The American Tour of 1965 would be one to remember, for several reasons. The day after their Ed Sullivan performance, they performed at Shea Stadium in New York in front of more than 55,000 screaming fans. Never before had a concert been held in a stadium, with so many people attending. The noise of the audience was deafening, but it was such a thrilling experience that John couldn’t help himself. He just had to give Paul a hug on stage. So that’s what he did, startling Paul, who didn’t know whether to hug back or push John away from him. It was a rather awkward situation, and Paul whispered a worried “John, watch it” before softly pushing him away and giving him an apologetic smile.

In some of the cities they were playing, the hotels they were staying in had been made known by the hotel managers days before their arrival, which led to large amounts of fans screaming for the boys all night long. On some of those nights they were hardly able to sleep, much to their annoyance.

Their Atlanta show was remarkable for several reasons. First of all, it was hot. Really, really hot. They were practically melting at the backstage area, and Paul had asked for a large fan, since there was no air-conditioning. It didn’t help much though. They also had a marvelous meal before the show, consisting of corn on the cob, sirloin steaks, lamb chops and apple pie. But the most remarkable thing was the fact there were monitors speakers on stage, provided by a local audio company. They could actually hear themselves play for the first time in years! And they loved it. Boy, were they a tight little band! Paul had asked Brian if he could make a deal with the audio company to provide the sound system for the rest of their tour, but sadly that didn’t happen.

In Minneapolis there was another first: the sauna. They had heard of saunas, but had never seen or used one before. So when they found out there was one in the locker room of the stadium, they all decided to have a go at it. Ringo thought it was _too warm and too humid._ But then again, he _never_ could stand the heat very well. George thought it felt very good for his throat and lungs, but it also made him incredibly _hungry._ But then again, was there something in the world that _didn’t_ make him hungry? Paul _loved_ t he warmth. It made his muscles relax and took away some of the tension he often felt before a show. But then again, he _always_ loved warmth, because he was always rather cold, often putting on a jumper over his dress shirt and underneath his blazer. 

And John? John _loved_ it. Seeing Paul all sweaty, wearing only a tiny towel around the waist, showing off that broad chest, that taut belly and those long, hairy, sexy legs. But then again, he _always_ loved to see Paul with a minimum amount of clothes and sweaty skin. He immediately decided to get a sauna installed at Kenwood when they returned home.

On their flight from Minneapolis to Portland, one of the engines of their plane caught fire. John and Paul held each other’s hands tightly, as did George and Ringo. They were all terribly frightened, and John brought Paul’s hand to his lips, whispering “I love you, I love you, I love you.” They were awfully relieved when they managed to land safely and John shouted out “Beatles, women and children first!”

And then they had five days off in Los Angeles, where they rented a house in Beverly Hills. Something weird happened between John and Paul there. Some time before their American Tour, John and George had been given LSD by their dentist. They had been unaware they’d been given it, but had liked the experience nonetheless. They wanted to try it again in LA and wanted Paul and Ringo to share the experience. Ringo had been very willing to try, but Paul refused. He had heard about the side effects of LSD, that it might change your mind forever, and he liked his mind as it was, thank you very much. So he refused to take it. The other three were pushing him to try it, making fun of him being too scared to try it, and Paul felt very left out. 

Suddenly Paul felt he was no longer on the same wavelength as John. It felt like they were in different worlds. It caused a rift between them, an abyss that scared Paul. John seemed to be drifting away from him and Paul could no longer reach him. All of a sudden they were no longer a twosome, no longer two sides to the same coin, no longer yin and yang, no longer each other’s other half. They’d become two separate men, two individuals. The LSD experience had changed John, and it worried Paul. A lot.

Two days later things seemed to be okay again. But Paul still felt that something had shifted in their relationship, some of the closeness, the “oneness” seemed to have disappeared. But then again, maybe he was just imagining things. He put aside his worries, as they were about to meet their ultimate hero that day: Elvis Presley!  
Although totally thrilled about meeting their musical hero, the meeting was a bit weird. Overwhelmed by seeing Elvis in the flesh, the boys hardly spoke a word to the man at first, they just stared at him. When the ice finally broke, they started to talk about music and what it’s like to be an idol, and they played some music together. Paul showed Elvis some bass tricks, since he seemed interested in playing bass. 

Paul was in awe of the giant colour-television with a remote control. He had never seen anything like that. Ringo loved the pool tables, and he and George played pool with a number of Elvis’s entourage. But John kept asking Elvis why he had stopped making rock ‘n’roll in favour of making movies with soft ballads, when was he going back to good old rock ‘n’roll again? John’s constant returning back to that question seemed to make Elvis feel uneasy, but John didn’t seem to notice that. Paul tried to sign with his eyes that John should stop asking Elvis about it, but somehow their wires were crossed once again. Paul couldn’t make the connection to John as he usually could. Elvis also seemed a bit stoned. But then again, so were they. It was a weird encounter, but nevertheless one to be remembered.

When a couple of days later, after their last show in Los Angeles, George and Paul decided to visit The Byrds in the recording studio, John didn’t want to come. He preferred to stay in bed until their flight back home was due. “But John, they’re recording Dylan’s “The Times They Are a-Changin’” and you love that song!” Paul had tried to convince John, but once again he failed to really connect to him. “I’m not interested in trips like that anymore, they’re so futile. Nothing compares to an acid-trip, you know. Those are the only trips I want to take from now on. You would understand if you’d stop being a scared bastard and go on a trip with me.” 

So Paul had gone to see The Byrds without John. John’s behavior made him worried and confused. Ever since John had taken LSD he had changed. He acted cold and distant towards him, and it hurt Paul. John’s jealous behavior over “Yesterday” combined with the change of attitude towards him caused by the LSD, made Paul feel like John didn’t even like him anymore. Cracks were appearing in their so far solid relationship, and Paul didn’t like it. Not one little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul seem to drift apart.....


	73. A WORLD WITHOUT YOU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John and Paul have a major fall out. They start to realize that they are holding each other back and can live their lives without each other very well. But do they really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

After their return to England, they had six weeks off before they were expected back in the studio to start recording their next album. Paul had looked forward spending time alone with John again at Kenwood, just relaxing, enjoying each other’s company without the presence of others, and writing songs. But things didn’t exactly turn out the way he hoped.

To start with, they were hardly ever alone. George and Ringo, who both had bought houses not far from Kenwood, came by every day, and the three of them would use LSD. They were in completely different worlds and Paul wasn’t able to communicate with them at all when they were tripping. And they constantly tried to persuade him to take it too, and made fun of him when he kept declining. Suddenly he wasn’t part of their little circle anymore and he felt left out, confused and lonely. He tried to talk about it in bed at night, after George and Ringo finally left, but John wouldn’t listen. 

Two weeks later things got completely out of hand, when they found out “Yesterday” was being released as a single in the USA. John exploded when he learned of the fact. But instead of turning his anger on Brian, who had promised them the song would not be released as a single, he turned to Paul. “You, liar! You said your bloody song would only be an album track, and now you’ve got a solo single! That’s not what we decided on, you bastard!” 

“Hey, it’s not my fault! I didn’t know about this, I didn’t have a say in it! I told Brian I didn’t want it to be released as a single. I can’t help it if our American record label decides otherwise!” “No, but I bet you’re oh so thrilled about it, aren’t you? Standing in the spotlight on your own, as the vain little diva you are! Won’t be long now before you start out a solo career, because that’s what you always wanted, isn’t it? The band was only ever a vehicle for you to get started, wasn’t it? And now you’ve got what you wanted, so I suppose you’ll be handing over your resignation as our bass player soon?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, John! I don’t want a solo career! That’s not something I ever wanted to pursue, you fool! I _love_ playing in a band. The Beatles mean _everything_ to me, and you know that very well. I told you I never wanted to play “Yesterday” alone again. And I didn’t want it to be a single, you know that! Why are you saying all those ridiculous things?” 

But then George arrived, ready for another acid-trip. “Ritch isn’t coming today, John. He just called me to say Mo has given birth. It’s a boy and his name is Zak. He has to stay with Mo and the baby of course. So were tripping together, just the two of us, today. That is, unless our square bassist gets over his fears and wants to join us this time.” “Nah, Paul is too bloody scared, thinks he will lose his mind. Not that there is a lot to lose. He won’t be joining us. He will probably sit at the piano, trying to write another “masterpiece” like that stupid “Yesterday”. Thinks he’s an almighty composer now.” 

Paul turned on his heels, went for his car and drove to London. He was going to stay at Cavendish.

***

Paul visited Ringo and Maureen two days later and immediately fell in love with the little bundle of joy called Zak. It reminded him of how much he had always wanted children himself. He had resigned himself to the fact that it wouldn’t be possible, because he was with John. But the way things were going between the two of them, maybe their relationship would come to an end. And maybe then he would find himself a nice girl to marry and have children with? 

Spending time at Cavendish also made him aware of another fact. He was able to go and see plays, go to art galleries, see other musicians play, go out on the town. John mostly wanted to stay home when they were not working, just doing nothing. Paul loved to be busy, be part of the world around him, drinking in all of the wonderful things that were happening around London. So that’s what he did.

He got involved with the emerging underground culture in London and met all kind of wonderful people, like Peter Asher, George Dunbar and Barry Miles, who were about to open a bookshop annex gallery called the Indica. Paul helped to set it all up, designing promotional flyers to advertise the Indica's opening, and the shop’s wrapping paper. And he bought a lot of interesting books himself as well.

He also met the artist Peter Blake, who helped with the decoration of the Indica. Paul was very impressed with his work. And he met an art dealer by the name of Robert Fraser. He and Robert hit it off straight away, with Robert taking him to the most delightful galleries. Paul had always loved art and being able to see all the different kinds of art Robert showed him and explained to him, thrilled him. Plus Robert was great company. He treated Paul like he was a very precious human being, he made him feel cherished, a feeling John hadn’t given him for some time now.

But no matter how much he liked going around town, no matter how much he liked the company of his new friends, when he lay in bed at night, cold and alone, he missed John. He had never been apart from John for such a long time in ages. Where did things go wrong? Should he have declined recording “Yesterday” or singing it live, like all of them had told him? Should he have given in and taken an acid-trip with the guys? Would he still be lying in bed next to John if he had?

Part of him wished he _had_ given in to John’s demands. But a bigger part of him realized that it was wrong to give in to peer pressure. He should stick to his believes, stay true to himself. Because if you didn’t stay true to yourself, how could you be true to others? How could he have a meaningful life with John, if John didn’t want to accept him as he was? He had his flaws, sure, he was very aware of that, and he didn’t mind being called out on them. But he didn’t consider writing a song or refusing to engage in LSD, flaws, and John was being very unreasonable now. 

So even if he felt lonely and dearly missed John, he did not go back to Kenwood nor call John. If John wanted him back, he should be the one to act. In the meantime he would enjoy his stay in London, and the company of his new friends. Maybe his relationship with John had run its course? Only time would tell. Maybe it was time for him to spread his wings and fly by himself? He hoped not, he hoped they could work things out, and continue to be each other’s one and only, but if not, he’d better establish a life for himself so he wouldn’t be totally lost if John would tell him they were through. 

So when Robert called him the next day, asking if Paul would like to accompany him to Paris to visit some art galleries and maybe buy some art as well, telling Paul that buying art would be a good investment, Paul decided to accept the invitation and grab the opportunity to wider his horizon with both hands.

***

Paul had left Kenwood. He had seen the offended look on his face. God the boy was so easily offended. And what was it for this time? For being called a scared diva? Well he was. Wasn’t he? Paul with his perfect looks, his perfect songs, his perfect voice, praised by the whole world for that stupid song he had dreamt up. Dreamt up. Not written. Real art was something you worked on, sweated on, agonized about till you got it right. It didn’t just appear out of nowhere.

And his stupid hang-ups about taking LSD. Scared to lose his mind. What a coward! Always afraid to jump down the rabbit hole, always weighing pros and cons, instead of just leaping. Never daring to take any risk. What did he ever see in such a sissy boy?

So he dropped acid with George, knowing that Paul would be back tonight. The boy never liked being on his own, always clinging to John. But Paul didn’t return home that night and neither the next night, or the next......But it didn’t really matter, did it? George and Ringo (who had managed to get away from his wife and newborn son) came over to keep him company during the day and drop acid with him. And during those trips John experienced and saw things beyond believe. It opened his eyes to a whole new world. A world where he didn’t need Paul.

But at night, his bed was cold and empty. He missed Paul’s long, strong arms around him, he missed his scent, which always made him feel at home, he missed those kaleidoscope eyes that held so much love in them. Should he call Paul and ask him to come back? But no, that would be showing defeat. And _he_ wasn’t the one who ran away, was he? _Paul_ was the one who left, _Paul_ was the one in the wrong, so _Paul_ should be the one to come back to him and apologize for his childish behaviour. And if Paul didn’t want to take that first step, if Paul didn’t want to return home and come back to John, well, fuck him! He could live without Paul perfectly well. He now had LSD to brighten up his life, after all. Maybe it was time he went his own way, without Paul holding him back. 

So the next day he decided to invite some of his friends from the music scene, members of the Stones and the Who, for an all night party. If Paul thought he could live his life without John, well, two could play that game!

***

Paul had a lovely time in Paris. Robert took him to the most inspirational galleries and glorious museums, took him to a concert at the opera house, introduced him to some wonderful painters and sculptors, dined with him in the best restaurants, and shared a suite with him at the George V.

Paul discovered he really liked surrealism, loved the works of Savador Dali, Max Ernst and Joan Miró. But he was especially delighted by the Belgium painter René Magritte. And Robert had managed to close a deal which made Paul the proud owner of no less than three Magritte paintings. 

Robert showered him with attention and Paul felt totally relaxed for the first time in months. He didn’t have to walk on his toes, constantly careful not to offend John or hurt his feelings. He didn’t have to put on his happy Beatle-face all of the time, always pretending to be someone that wasn’t really him. Sipping a delightful “Chateau Neuf du Pape” and enjoying the taste of the olives that stood on the small table at the cosy bistro, looking at the people passing by, he sighed contently. “Are you enjoying yourself, Paul?” Robert asked. “Very much so, Robert. Thank you so much for taking me here, for showing me around all those awesome galleries, away from the pressures of being a Beatle, I really needed that.”

On their way back to the hotel, Paul realized he had drunken a bit too much, when his feet didn’t seem to be able to walk in a straight line and the world around him seemed to spin around. It made him feel very giddy and he started giggling. Robert put his arm around him to make sure he didn’t fall flat on his face. When they finally entered their suite, Robert guided him to his bed. Paul fell down flat on his back with his clothes on, still giggling because it felt like his bed was a boat rolling on the waves.

He expected Robert to go to his own bedroom, but the man started to undress Paul. Well, that probably was a good idea, he didn’t think he was able to do it himself right now. When he was left with only his boxers on, Robert tugged him in. The silk sheets felt divine on his naked skin. He closed his eyes. A foot ran up and down his shin and a hand was caressing his belly, wandered over his chest, touching his shoulders. That felt good. And then fingers were running through his hair, softly massaging his scalp. God, that felt amazing. He felt his nether regions stir. A hand cupped his cheek and suddenly a pair of lips was touching his........ 

***

It had been almost three weeks since Paul walked out on him. He hadn’t returned home, not had he called. God, the boy was such a drama queen sometimes! And gorgeous of course. Drop dead gorgeous. And such a wonderful lover. He could do wonders with those elegant hands, with those luscious lips, that beautiful cock......

John was lying underneath the blankets of his cold and empty bed and his hand wandered towards his semi erect penis, and as he took it in his hand he imagined Paul was touching him. Paul who knew exactly what his lover liked, sometimes even better than he did himself. “Paul, baby, yes, that’s it my little bunny, that’s it” John moaned as he stroke himself to an orgasm. God, how he longed to feel Paul inside him! How long had it been since Paul had last taken him? Ages ago. Maybe he should give Paul a call? See if he wanted to come home? He hated to admit it, but he really missed him. His beautiful boy. His Paul. 

He got out of the bed to find the phone. He dialled the number of Cavendish, but there was no answer. Maybe Paul was still asleep. At two in the afternoon? No way. He was always up long before John would wake up. The boy was so restless, always ready to start working, like he was afraid that he’d miss out on something if he’d stay in bed for too long. But why wasn’t he answering the phone then? He should be answering his phone when John called. Maybe he was out buying some groceries? He’d try again later.

But Paul didn’t answer the phone later that day either. Nor the next day, nor the next.....And then John started to get worried. Why wasn’t Paul answering the phone? Because he was too pissed off to talk to him? But how would he know it was John that was calling him? So that couldn’t be it. Maybe he was out with friends? But what friends? Paul didn’t have many friends outside the music world and those friends had been around Kenwood a lot in the past weeks. None of them had mentioned seeing Paul lately. Ivan maybe? He lived in London and Paul’s friendship with him had never wavered.

John searched for his address book to find Ivan’s phone number, when suddenly a horrible thought hit him. What if Paul had done something stupid? What if.......shit! Paul had been upset, he remembered seeing that in his lover’s eyes just before he drove off to London on his own. And a few times Paul had been upset in the past had resulted in.........John suddenly panicked. He was supposed to look after Paul, protect him! He grabbed the phone and called for his driver Alf and dressed himself in a hurry. He had to get to Cavendish as soon as possible! The anxiety really kicked in now.

He urged Alf to drive faster, but it was rush hour and the traffic was really busy. John was getting more and more worried by the minute and swore loudly when they had to stop for another traffic light. When they finally reached Cavendish, twilight was already setting in. He rushed to the front door, took out his key and ran towards the living room. “Paul? Paul where are you? Paul?” But nobody answered. Paul was not there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Robert Fraser be the cause of John and Paul breaking up? Read all about it in the next chapter!


	74. ROBERT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> Will Paul accept Robert's advances? And what will happen when John finds out Paul has been to Paris with Robert?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Hands were caressing his body, touching him everywhere. Lips were touching his. Kissing him. He enjoyed being kissed by John. But then it suddenly hit him: those weren’t John’s lips! He would recognize John’s lips anywhere. His eyes flew open and he saw Robert’s face hovering above him, kissing him. Suddenly he panicked. He didn’t want this! “Stop it, Robert, stop it!” He pushed the man away and quickly stood up from the bed. God, the room really was spinning! “Stop it, Robert, I don’t want this!” 

“That’s not what a certain body part is telling me, love” Robert nodded at Paul’s groin, where his boxers couldn’t hide an undeniable boner. Paul felt himself blush. His mind was sure he didn’t want this, but his body was betraying him. “I......I don’t know why......I’m not interested.....I don’t want.....” He found he couldn’t find the right words and then Robert was by his side and the man was naked and his arms were around him and he kissed his neck........and it felt so good.......No! “No! Stop it, please stop!” 

“Come on, love, I know you want it. I know you’re not straight, I can read your body language, you know, and you can’t deny being aroused, love. You’re so beautiful, so sinfully beautiful, let me just love you, darling, let me please you.” He started kissing Paul’s neck again, his hands roaming down Paul’s body. It felt good, so good, but......John......He pushed Robert away from him again, suddenly feeling sobered up. “I’m sorry Robert, I’m sorry. It feels really good and I really, really like you, but I can’t go there, I simply can’t.” “Why not, Paul? I feel we have a connection and I’m sure you feel it too. Why not give in to your feelings, why hold back?”

“I do feel a connection, Robert, I do, but not in that way. I like being your friend, but I don’t want to be your lover. I _can’t_ be your lover. I’m in a relationship......” “John.” “Yes, with John. I can’t, I _won’t_ betray him. We’ve been together for so long......” “But I haven’t seen the two of you together at all for the past three weeks, and you never talk about him either. Maybe things aren’t going so well between you? Maybe it’s time for someone else in your life......in your bed? Your body tells me you want that, sweetheart.” 

Both men were standing opposite from each other, Robert naked and obviously very aroused (which made Paul blush), Paul in his boxers, his erection now vanished. “John and I.....we’re having some problems, yes, but......we’ll patch things up. We’ve always been able to find our way somehow, even in the most difficult of times. We belong together. I’m sorry, Robert, I really am sorry if I have given you the wrong impression, but my heart belongs to John, and so does my body. I will not betray him, even though he’s being a bastard right now. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, I didn’t mean to......you’ve been so wonderful to me these past weeks, these past days in Paris.....but I really can’t give you more than my friendship. Please understand?”

Robert nodded slowly. “Okay, if that’s how you really feel.....I hoped you’d feel the same for me as I feel for you. I thought you did, you seemed to enjoy our time together.....” “I did enjoy our time together, I still do!” “But obviously on a different level. Damn, Paul, I’ve really fallen for you, you know. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, so gorgeous.....and you’re such a kind, gentle soul, so sweet, so loving.....I could be very good for you, darling, make you feel like a prince, I’d do anything for you......” “I’m sorry, Robert, I’m really, really sorry, but......no.” 

Robert sighed, defeated. “I guess I can’t compete with John Lennon, can I? I’m sorry for making a move at you.” “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, you didn’t know.......” “I’ll better go back to my room then.” Robert turned around, picking up his clothes. “Robert?” The man turned back to him again as Paul softly said his name. “I know this probably sounds very cliché but.....without meaning to offend you, could we still be friends? I really love your company.....I’d hate to lose your friendship...... I don’t really have many friends, you know.” Paul’s voice was no more than a whisper. He felt awful. He had led Robert on, without realizing it, and had hurt the feelings of the man that had been so attentive and kind to him. 

“It’s okay, Paul, it’s okay. I’m not offended. Disappointed, yes, of course I am. I really hoped......Well, let’s just forget this ever happened, alright? And I do hope we can still be friends. I’ve never met anyone as talented and open minded, so witty, so erudite, without realizing that himself. You’re a breath of fresh air, Paul. And drop dead gorgeous on top of that. So, yes, I’d like to stay friends. I’d like it to be more than friendship, but if friendship is all you’re willing to give me, then I’ll take that. But if you ever get enough of John.......you know who to turn to.”

***

Paul wasn’t home. And it looked like he hadn’t been there for some time either. Where the hell was he? John was really worried now. He grabbed the phone and dialled Jim’s number. Maybe Paul had gone off to see his dad? He always liked to visit his father after all, he was still such a daddy’s boy. But Paul wasn’t there, nor had he been there since before their American tour. He hadn’t been in touch at all. He dialled the information number to get Ivan’s number. But Ivan hadn’t seen or heard Paul in months.

Steve and Dusty perhaps? Paul always thought of the two men as a safe haven. “Dusty, Dusty, is Paul there?“ he asked agitated, when his old schoolteacher answered the phone. “John? John is that you? No, Paul isn’t here. What’s wrong? You sound worried.” “Has he been in touch the past couple of weeks then?” “In touch the past couple of w......John? Are you telling me you haven’t seen Paul in weeks? And you don’t know where he is? John? What’s happened?”

“We.....we had a falling out of some sorts......” “A falling out? For weeks? That must have been some falling out! And you have no idea where he is? John! You’re supposed to keep an eye on him! What if something happened!” Steve had grabbed the phone form Dusty’s hands and scolded John over his behaviour. “I know, I know, Steve. God I’m so worried. He’s not at Cavendish, he’s not at his dad’s, not at Ivan’s, none of our friends from the music scene have seen him. I don’t know where he is! What am I gonna do?””

John was really panicking now. Paul had disappeared and nobody seemed to have any clue about his whereabouts. “Calm down John, calm down. First of all: what happened between the two of you? Why weren’t you staying together?” “We disagreed about something and then he left Kenwood and he never came back. That was about three weeks ago now.” “John? You disagreed about something? Paul can’t have left because of a simple disagreement. That doesn’t sound like him.” 

“Well, it eh......it might have been more than just a simple disagreement. We’ve been......we kind of been having some problems for over some time now. We’ve argued quite a bit lately and I guess.....well I guess he’d had enough, and he ran out. And he didn’t come back and he didn’t call, and I didn’t call either......because he was the one who ran away, you know, so I thought he should be the one to take the first step......” “John! How could you! You know better than to leave Paul on his own when he’s distressed! And nobody has seen him? Shit, this doesn’t sound good, doesn’t sound good at all...” 

John moaned. “You’re not really helping here, Steve, making me even more worried than I already am. What am I supposed to do? Should I......should I call the police? Tell them he’s gone missing? Ring some hospitals perhaps?” “If he were in hospital, you’d find out about it by now, John. Everybody in the world recognises him, so they would have contacted you. Did you call Brian yet? Maybe he knows something?” 

“No I haven’t. You think I should?” “Just call everybody you know that Paul knows as well. He’s bound to be around somewhere, right? Unless of course.......” “Don’t say it Steve, please don’t say that. He wouldn’t try that again, would he? Please say he wouldn’t......” “Call Brian, John, and keep us posted alright?”

***

“Too bad we’ve had to come back, Robert. I really enjoyed our stay in Paris. Would have loved to see some more galleries, although I doubt I’d find anything that tops Magritte.” “You’re really quite taken by his work, aren’t you?” “I think it’s inspirational, Robert. And what’s more, spending some days in Paris enjoying some good food and fine wine, while having a nice talk to somebody who’s such good company, has done me a lot of good. I really needed that. Thank you so much, Robert. I hope we can do it again sometime? Even though it would just be on a friendly base. I’m still really sorry about that, you know.”

The taxi that had driven them from the airport to Cavendish stopped in front of the gates that Paul had installed to keep unwanted guests from his front door. But ever since his address had become known amongst Beatle fans, there always were a couple of fan girls hanging around outside the gates. “I’ll just open the gates so you can drive to the front door. We have quite a bit of luggage to unload” he told the taxi driver. He jumped out of the car, signed a few autographs, posed for a few photographs and went to open the gates. 

“No need to feel sorry, Paul. I understand. And I certainly hope we can take a trip like this again, there’s so much art out there that I can show you, Paul. I really enjoyed your company as well, you know. Like I said, you’re a breath of fresh air. So even though it might not have turned out the way I would have liked, I still value your company a lot. As far as I’m concerned, I hope we can continue our friendship, Paul.” 

“We certainly can. But it’s gonna be some time before I get the chance to go away for a couple of days again. We start recording our new album next week and I still have some songs to write. But maybe there’ll be an opportunity to see some exhibitions in London every now and then. Hey, can you carry that large painting?” “Sure, if you can open the front door?” Paul turned the key and walked in to the front parlour, suitcase in one hand, a small wrapped painting under his other arm. “Let’s just put it in the living room, alright?” he told Robert, looking over his shoulder as he walked into the room. “Then we can unload the rest of our stuff and I’ll put the kettle on for a nice cuppa. You’re staying over, won’t you? You can help me drink those bottles of Chateau Neuf du Pape we brought back with us, while we decide where to hang the painti........John?”

***

He was about to dial Brian’s number as he heard the front door open and heard a voice. Paul! Paul was back!. He sighed deeply, feeling all tension fall off him. Paul was alive. God he hadn’t realized just how afraid he had been that Paul......But wait a minute, who was Paul talking to? And suddenly Paul was there, in the living room, looking as splendid as ever, maybe even more so and John’s heart skipped a beat. God he was gorgeous. And he was so relieved he was alive and kicking. And he had missed him so much. And.....a man appeared behind Paul. A man John had never seen before, carrying a large rectangular object, wrapped in paper. A man Paul was about to drink bottles of Chateau Neuf du Pape with. The wine they used to drink together while they were in Paris.

“Where _the hell_ have you been? And who’s _that?”_ he pointed at the suave looking man who now stood beside Paul, placing the object on the ground. “Oh, hello, my name’s Robert Fraser. I’m a friend of Paul’s.” The man stretched out his hand to John, but John looked at it like it was something disgusting and didn’t shake it. Instead he gave the man an angry look. “No you’re not, I know _all_ of Paul’s friends.”

Paul raised his eyebrows. “Well apparently you don’t, John. Robert here actually is a friend of mine, as well as a respected art dealer. He’s been showing me around the art galleries in London and we’ve just returned from Paris where I’ve bou.......” “Paris? You’ve been to Paris with a stranger?” “He’s not a stranger, John. I told you he’s my friend and he advised me to invest in some art and so I’ve bought these amazing paintings from a painter called Magritte. They’re truly fantastic! Wait until you see......" “You’ve been to Paris, without telling me, with a man I don’t know? To _our Paris?_ With _him?”_

“Yeah, they’ve got so many great art galleries there, you just wouldn’t believe all of the great works I’ve seen in the past week.” “A week? You’ve been to Paris for _an entire week?_ With _that man?_ And where did you stay while in Paris? Don’t tell me you stayed at the George V.” 

“Well, as a matter of fact we did. After all, it is the best hotel in Paris. Couldn’t take Paul anywhere else but the best of course” Robert answered. John saw red and took a few steps towards the man pointing his finger at him. “Shut up, you. I didn’t ask _you,_ did I? I asked Paul!” He turned to Paul again. “You stayed at the George V? _Our hotel?_ Did you share a room with him as well? I bet you did, didn’t you. And his bed as well, probably. He probably smooth talked his way into your pants, didn’t he, Paul? You just couldn’t wait to get away from me and crawl into another man’s bed!”

“Hey, that’s not what happened!” Robert cried out to John. John turned sharply towards the man again and raised his hand to hit him, but Paul grabbed his wrist just in time. “Stop it, John, just stop it! Nothing happened between Robert and me. We’re just friends for heaven’s sake! Stop making such a fool of yourself!”

“This is it, isn’t it? You’re leaving me. I always knew this would happen. That you’d leave me if someone better came around. After all, why would you stay with me, if you can have anyone you want. They’re all standing in line for you and you can just have your pick and leave me behind. I knew it couldn’t last, I knew it, I knew it......” John started sobbing softly.

Paul wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him tightly. “John! Johnny, don’t be ridiculous, love. I’m not leaving you. I could never find someone better than you. I love you! You know that! I just went to Paris, because.......because.......I had to get away from things for a while, you know, things have been so tense lately and......I met Robert and some other great guys from the London art scene. And you know how much I love art! And just because we stayed in the George V, that doesn’t mean something happened between us. I would never cheat on you John. I promise, nothing happened!” “Then tell that man to leave our house and never come back! I don’t ever want to see his face again!”

“I think I’d better go, Paul, so you and John can talk, alright?” Robert placed his hand on Paul’s arm and John exploded and turned to Robert again. “Keep your bloody hands of him! Get the hell out of here before I smash your ugly face! And don’t you dare ever showing your face here again!”

“Stop it, John, just stop it!” Paul stood in front of John, holding him back with his hands on his shoulders. “Robert is my friend and he can come here any time he wants, any time I want him to. You can’t control who I want to see! You can’t tell me who I can be friends with!” He turned his head to Robert apologizing. “I’m sorry Robert, I don’t know what has gotten in to John. Maybe it’s better you leave, I’m really sorry about this.”

“It’s okay, Paul, I’ll just collect the last painting from the taxi and I’ll be on my way. Will I be seeing you again sometime soon?” “Yes, you will, Robert, and thank you once again for your lovely company, I’ve really enjoyed myself. We’ll be in touch okay?” Paul then turned his attention back to John. “And what am I gonna do with you, Johnny?”

***

John was sobbing. Uncontrollably. Paul had gone off to Paris with another man. A man who obviously had his mind set on Paul. John could always tell if someone was after his lover. And Paul was always totally oblivious about other men hitting on him. But maybe this time Paul hadn’t been oblivious. Maybe this time Paul had accepted the advances that man made. After all, he had heard Paul say he had really enjoyed his company and wanted to see him again.......

He suddenly felt Paul’s arms around him again, holding him close to his body. One hand pressed John’s head against his neck and the long fingers were running through his hair. “Johnny, Johnny, calm down, love. What’s the matter with you? How can you possibly think I’m involved with another man?” 

“You left Kenwood and you never came back, you didn’t even call” John hiccupped. “Well, love, _you_ didn’t call _me_ either.” “Yes I did! I called you this morning, and you didn’t answer!” “This morning, John? _After three weeks?_ You finally realized I wasn’t there after three weeks?” “Of course I knew you weren’t there, you fool! But _you_ were the one who ran away from _me,_ so _you_ should be the one to call _me_ first.”

Paul sighed. “Do you even know why I left, John, do you?” “How am I supposed to know that? I just know you left and didn’t come back. And I was very lonely at night. And you weren’t there. And when I tried to call you and you didn’t answer, and nobody knew where you were.......I was just so worried, Paul! I was so afraid you might have......might have.......And then you just show up and tell me you went to Paris with some guy!” John was getting angry again. “Did you sleep with him?”

Paul softly pushed John away from him. “Look at me John, look at me. You were right, Robert was interested in me, he did make a pass at me. But I didn’t go there, John, I’d never go there. And you know why? Because even when you’re being a bastard to me, even when you do everything in your power to hurt me, I still love you, John. _I love you._ Do you understand? I love you, I’d never cheat on you, you idiot!” 

He cupped John’s cheeks. “I love you, John. Even when you drive me crazy, make fun of me, offend me, belittle me, piss me off......I love you! I can’t help myself, I’m _that_ pathetic. Sometimes i think I might be a masochist or something, but I love you John Lennon, and nothing is going to change that!”

Paul tenderly kissed John’s lips. “Believe me, Johnny, you’re the only one for me.” John then cupped Paul’s face with both his hands and crushed his lips to Paul’s, kissing him over and over again. “I missed you so much, baby, I missed you so much. Please make love to me, I need you. I need to feel you inside of me, need to feel that I’m yours, need to feel that you still want me. Please Paul.”

He started to unbutton Paul’s shirt. “Please, baby, please.......” Paul felt his groin stir. It had been so long since he had made love to John, and yes, he wanted John right now, just as much as John wanted him, but they needed to talk first! Sex was not the answer to the problems they had. They needed to talk to find out where things had gone so wrong, to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. His mind told him not to give in to his sexual desires, but his body betrayed him.

Before he realized it, they were in bed, naked, passionately kissing and grabbing, with an urgency he couldn’t control. He reached for the lube and took John like it was the last night of the world. His orgasm was overwhelming and the world stopped turning for a while.

After lying underneath the cosy blankets for a while, with John nestled in his arms in total post coital bliss, Paul whispered: “That was great, Johnny, absolutely fantastic. I’ve really missed making love to you. So, so much. But........We really need to talk, Johnny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will talking to each other save their relationship? Or is it too late for them? You'll have to wait till next Tuesday to find out!
> 
> Santa brought me the yellow McCartney III package for Christmas, with a McCartney III t-shirt, facemask, baseball-cap and three dice. And with McCartney III at the number 1 spot in album charts across the world (here in The Nerherlands as well!), I'm simply having a Wonderful Christmastime!
> 
> Merry Christmas everybody!


	75. WE CAN WORK IT OUT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......
> 
> John and Paul have a deep, emotional talk about their relationship, to find out where things went wrong. Will they be able to work things out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“We really have to talk, about what has happened to us in the past weeks, Johnny. We’ve been drifting apart, and I don’t like it. Not one little bit.” Paul stroke John’s hair tenderly. “It’s like we’re on a rowing boat, with both of us rowing in different directions, which causes the boat to spin around, and if we don’t talk things through, I’m afraid we won’t be able to escape plunging down the waterfall. We have to start rowing in the same direction to get ourselves back on the right track and save our relationship.” 

John lifted his head from the comfortable spot that was Paul’s chest. He sighed deeply. He knew Paul was right. They _did_ need to talk. But talking to Paul about what was bothering him, was difficult. And he didn’t even want to think about how difficult it would be to hear what Paul had to say about him. He knew he hadn’t been exactly on his best behaviour lately…..”That’s a beautiful metaphor, baby.” “Thanks. I _am_ a songwriter after all. But seriously, John, the way things have been going between us......it really scares me. We really have to talk about what’s happened between us. Find out where we went wrong and make things right again. I don’t want to lose you.......”

“I don’t want to lose you either, baby. This past few weeks without you were really awful. I felt like I was adrift, you know, and I couldn’t get my feet on the ground. Life without you just isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. I’ve really missed you.” John sighed deeply again. “So, I guess you’re right. We have to talk.” 

“Let’s get dressed and go downstairs then. Make ourselves a cup of tea, sit across from each other at the kitchen table, and talk.” “Can’t we stay in bed? It’s so much more comfortable.” “I don’t think that’s a good idea, John. Your naked body lying so close to me, might distract me too much of the things I want to say. _Need_ to say. And there are things that need to be said, for both of us I reckon, whether we like it or not.” 

***

So there they were, fully dressed, sitting at the kitchen table, both of them with a steaming cup of tea in front of them, that seemed a whole lot more interesting to look at than looking at each other. Paul sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy. He reached his hand out to cover one of John’s. It felt cold. “John? John can you look at me, please?” John lifted his head and his eyes met Paul’s. “Do you want to start, or shall I?”

John pulled his hand back from Paul’s. Maybe he should start? Before he got cold feet? “I’ll start.” He remained silent for a few seconds and then blurted out “Why did you run away? You just ran off, didn’t come back, didn’t even call! I was worried sick about you, and then I found out you’ve been off to Paris, _our Paris_ , with a man I don’t know at all and who obviously has the hots for you! Are you sure you didn’t sleep with him?” 

“I’ve already told you that I didn’t, John. It never even crossed my mind to sleep with Robert. Or with any other man for that matter. Trust me on this, alright? What I really want to know from you, is why you have been so.....so.....hostile to me lately. Tell me what is bothering you, John, tell me what I’ve done wrong. If it’s something I’ve done or haven’t done, tell me please, so I can make things right again.”

John was silent again, looking down at his hands. “You always make me feel inferior.” “Inferior? I make you feel inferior?” “Yes, you do. You’re so fuckin’ perfect!” “Perfect? I’m not perfect, John. I....” “Yes, you are! Please let me explain without interrupting me, alright? I might not be able to go on if you keep interrupting. You’re absolutely gorgeous, your face is so beautiful, your body’s tall and slender, everything’s perfect. When I’m standing next to you, I just feel ugly and plumb and fat. And the way songs come to you so easily. The way you can come up with the most delightful melodies so effortlessly, while I have to work and struggle for ages to get a melody right, and even then it doesn’t measure up to what you have come up without a drop of sweat.”

“And you have that perfect voice that can tackle all kinds of genres. Just the other day, you did “I’ve just seen a face” and “I’m down” in one session and topped it off with “Yesterday”. I could never do something like that, I haven’t got the voice for it, haven’t got the vocal range for it. I don’t even come close to it. And you’ve written all of them yourself as well, three completely different styles. How am I supposed to compete with that?” 

“And the way you just seem to be able to pick up an instrument, _any instrument,_ and play it......Like you’re a fuckin’ one-man band! You really don’t need any of us. And when you were working with George Martin on that string arrangement for “Yesterday”? How you just came up with that score for the cello? You’ve never even touched a cello and still you know exactly how it should sound. I could never do such things.”

“It feels like you’re running away from, you’re so fuckin’ far ahead of me, leaving me behind in the cold, and I can’t catch up with you anymore. And then George Martin and Brian gave you that solo-spot on the album and in the shows.......I just fear that before too long you’ll leave the band to pursue a solo career, since you can do everything yourself. You simply don’t need us. Don’t need _me._ I feel I’ve just become a burden, someone you just drag along because you feel you are obliged to do so, while you probably think you’ll be better off without me. You are better off without me.”

“I feel like I’m losing you. I’m always on my toes, afraid that someone will snatch you away from me. I mean, you can have anyone you want, so why would you settle for someone like me? But I always thought I at least had one advantage over other men; our musical partnership. That you would always need me musically, and that would make you stay with me. But you obviously don’t need me anymore in that way either.”

“And I thought maybe we could reconnect again, that I could pull you back into my atmosphere if you would use LSD with me, share that experience with me. But you simply refuse to do so. No matter how often I ask, you just keep rejecting me. You’re just slipping away from me, leaving me, like everybody always does.....”

***

Paul had listened to John attentively. Yes, he had always known John was insecure. But he never realized the real extend of it. The last thing he wanted to do was to add to John’s insecurity, but somehow he seemed to have done so anyway.

“Johnny, I’ve told you so many times before: you are not fat or ugly. You’re a beautiful man! And I’m certainly not the only one in the world who thinks so. Just look at the amount of fan mail you get. Millions of girls around the world love you! And I’m sure quite a few men as well. Your look strong and masculine, and lots of people prefer that, they think I look too feminine.” “You don’t look feminine at all, Paul! You’re beautiful, you’re......” “Let me finish John. I have listened to you without interrupting you, now please do the same for me.”

“We’re two different types of men, and we both have our admirers. And you have lots of them, John, lots of people prefer your looks over mine. I certainly do. To me you are the most beautiful man in the whole world. Nobody compares to you, your warm almond shaped eyes, your soft auburn hair, your strong chin, your Roman Emperor nose, your beautiful strong hands. You’re so fuckin’ masculine and I love it! Why would I go for someone else when I’ve already got the best looking man in the world!”

“And I’m sorry if I make you feel like I don’t need you musically, John. If I’ve done so, it wasn’t intentionally. Because I _do_ need you, love, because you have the gift to change a single line, _a single word_ even, in my lyrics to turn a mediocre song into a sublime one. You always come up with the best lines when I get stuck. All your lyrics are sublime! You have such a good way with words, I can’t hold a candle to that. I don’t come even near! I almost always struggle with my lyrics. And a good song needs both a good melody as well as good lyrics, so I really need you, love. And don’t say you’re not good at melodies. You wrote “If I fell” for heaven’s sake, and “In my life” for the next album is simply exquisite!”

“And, yes, melodies come easily to me, I can’t help that, John. It’s who I am. Music runs through my veins. You’ll have to accept that, just like I’ll have to accept I’ll never be as strong as you lyrically. But isn’t that exactly what makes us such a strong partnership? The fact that we complete each other?”

“And I most certainly don’t want to pursue a solo career, John! I love being in the Beatles. The band means the world to me. But with “Yesterday”.......I just couldn’t envision it being played by the band. I just heard it in my head, how it should sound, that sometimes happens to me, and I know it can be annoying if I tell everybody how I want a song to sound, but I can’t help it, John! What I hear in my head is so strong sometimes, and for “Yesterday” it just wasn’t the band I heard......I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t need you, darling. That never was my intention, but you know, I’m really, really proud of that song and it really hurts hearing you talk so dismissive about it.”

“And as for your voice: many, many people prefer your voice to mine. You’ve got such a strong, prominent, recognizable voice. You should be proud of it, you know. It’s one of the things I’ve always liked most about you, you know, made me fall in love with you and want to be your musical partner.”

“I love you, Johnny, I really, really love you. And my intention is to stay with you forever. I want to be your partner in every aspect of my life, emotionally, musically, sexually......I want to be all to you, love, be true to you in every way. But to be able to be true to you, I have to be able to be true to myself. I have to be able to _be_ myself. And I need you to _accept and respect_ me the way I am. And sometimes you make me feel like you don’t respect me at all.”

“And it’s not just the way you’ve been dismissive of “Yesterday”. It’s also the way you sometimes make fun of me in front of others. Like copying my hand movements. I can’t help that my hands do those stupid gestures when I talk, it just happens. And I laugh about it when you copy me, but it makes me feel very uneasy and stupid. And that time you gave me those fake flowers and called me Ringo after I performed “Yesterday”? I was so nervous about singing it alone on stage and you made me feel so embarrassed.” 

“And then you don’t respect my refusal to take LSD. The stuff scares me, John. The thought that it can change your mind forever really scares me. And if you love me, you should respect my decision not to use it. But you don’t respect my decision at all. On the contrary, you keep pushing me to take it and make fun of me in front of others, telling them what a pansy I am. And then you go off, tripping with the others, without giving me another thought, completely ignoring me. I’ve been feeling so left out the past couple of weeks! It felt like you didn’t want to know me anymore, didn’t love me anymore, didn’t even _like_ me anymore. You’ve been making me feel like you were pushing me out of your life.”

***

Paul had been looking at his hands, as he whispered those last words. The silence that followed felt heavy. Neither of them spoke, letting the words they said to each other sink in. Then John grabbed Paul’s hand. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry for being such a bastard.” “You’re not a bastard, Johnny, you’re just human, just like me. And humans make mistakes. We’ve both made mistakes, love. And I think the worst mistake we’ve made, is that we have somehow stopped to communicate with each other. We talk, be we don’t communicate. We don’t communicate about what bothers us, about our fears, about our insecurities. We just push that away, and think we can solve our problems with some good sex. And don’t get me wrong: the sex is absolutely amazing! But a relationship is built on so much more than sex. It’s built on honesty, respect, trust, understanding, communication, love and, in our case, music. And somehow, somewhere we’ve lost sight of those things.”

Paul sighed. “I always thought that simply loving you was all I needed to do to make our relationship work. But now I’ve come to realize it’s not just a loving machine. It doesn’t work out if you don’t work at it. And we’ve not been working at it lately.” 

“And what these past weeks also made me realize, is that we’re not the same person. For some reason I’ve been feeling that we were one and the same person. But we aren’t. You’re you, and I’m me. And we’ve got a lot in common, but at the same time we’re very different. And that’s not a bad thing, because that’s what keeps our relationship interesting and our musical partnership successful. Because you’re strong where I’m weak and vice versa. But we must _accept_ that we sometimes have different opinions, and more importantly _respect_ them, because if we can’t do that, I’m afraid our relationship will not last. We’ll have to learn to give and take. And since we’re both rather strong headed, that won’t be easy. But I’m willing to give it a go, if you are.”

John now grabbed Paul’s other hand as well and softly squeeze them both. “When did you become such a wise man, Macca? So young and so wise. But you’re right. And I’ll do anything to rescue our relationship, baby, because I can’t imagine a life without you. And I want our life together to be one filled with love and the joy of living it together. Life’s too short for fussing and fighting. So do you think we can work it out?” 

“I know we can work it out, Johnny. We’ve always found our way somehow. And I’m sure we can continue to do so. It might not be easy, but if we’re both determined to make it work, we _will_ work it out. So let’s start working.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they're determined to work things out and mend their relationship. But that doens't mean everything will go smoothly from now on........
> 
> Celebrating my birthday today by listening to McCartney III.


	76. HIS LAST NAME.....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy...... The (fictional) story of John and Paul throught the years.
> 
> John and Paul have made up, and spend Christmas with their families. Paul has a rather harsh encounter. John has a new nickname for his lover. And then Paul reads the newspaper......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John and Paul wouldn’t be John and Paul if they didn’t use some of their feelings of the past few weeks in their songs. Paul had written “I’m looking through you” and everybody wondered who the song was about. Paul usually wasn’t the angry type of guy, so who could he be singing to so harshly? 

John had written “Run for your life” and everybody wondered who _that_ song was about. John was every inch the angry type of guy and everyone felt worried for the girl in the song.

And then there was “We can work it out” a beautiful plea to work out the problems in a relationship. But neither men were in a relationship, so who were they talking about?

They had talked things through, apologized to each other and promised to be more attentive to each other’s feelings. The whole episode had been worrisome for both men. For a couple of weeks they had lost sight of each other’s feelings and had drifted apart. They never expected they could fall out like that and yet it had happened. It had scared them and they never wanted it to happen again. So they were both determined to work on their relationship.

October and most of November were filled with recording sessions for their next album and a visit to Buckingham Palace to collect their MBEs. John and Paul stayed at Cavendish most of the time while they were recording, preferring the short walk from there to Abbey Road to the hour long ride from Kenwood.

After having recorded all the racks for “Rubber Soul” they had some time off before their December UK Tour started, and John and Paul retreated to Kenwood for a couple of days for some much needed personal time together.

On one of the nights over there, sitting on the couch together, they discussed the set list for their upcoming tour. Paul, his legs spread out upon the couch with John nestled between them, his head resting on Paul’s chest, decided to bring up a delicate topic: “Yesterday”. Brian had urged them to include the song in their set list, because there was a huge request for it, but Paul was hesitant. The last time they did “Yesterday” had ultimately led to a falling out between them and Paul had told John he wouldn’t perform the song alone anymore. He never wanted to go through such a painful separation from John again.

“What if we make a new arrangement for the song, John? Just with our usual instruments, and play it together as a band?” “But you and George Martin decided our usual instruments wouldn’t fit the song.” “Yeah, I know, but we could try to make a new arrangement to play it on stage. That way we can include it in our set list, without me having to do it solo. I really don’t want to do it alone anymore, but it seems that people want to hear it. So what do you think?” He ran his fingers through John’s auburn hair. So soft.

John sighed contently. “We could give it a go, if you want to. But are you sure you want to sing it in a different arrangement? After all, you had such a strong vision of how the song was meant to sound. Could you live with a completely different sound? If not, you shouldn’t change the arrangement and just play it solo, you know. I won’t put up a fight this time, I promise.

“But that’s just it, John. I don’t want to perform it solo. I hate being on stage without you. But Brian said the tour’s promoter really wants us to perform the song, so I think we should work out an arrangement for the entire band to play.” “If you are sure about that, baby, then that’s what we’ll do. Let’s include “Yesterday” in our set list then. Now will you keep running your fingers through my hair? I _love_ it when you do that.”

***

Touring the UK in December was not one of Brian’s better decisions. It was cold, very cold, and extremely wet, and they were glad when the tour was over and they were more than happy to spend their Christmas holidays with their families in Liverpool. Although none of their families actually lived in the city anymore, since all the boys had bought their parents (and aunt Mimi) houses on the outskirts of Liverpool.

John and Paul had decided to spend the days leading up to Christmas at Jim’s house in the Wirral and celebrate Christmas there as well. After Christmas they would go to aunt Mimi’s for a few days, before returning to London to ring out the old year and ring in the new.

Paul drove them up North from Cavendish, after stacking the car with the presents they had bought at Harrods (they had actually opened the store exclusively for the four of them one night in November, so they could do their Christmas shopping without being hassled by fans.)

During the ride, John’s hand never left Paul’s thigh, and they talked about everything under the sun. Not that there was a lot of sun to talk under, since it was one of those dreary, grey, cold and wet British December days, but they felt relaxed and happy and soon Paul’s head was filled with ideas for songs. They always came to him while he was driving.

Jim was happy to see his son and greeted John warmly as well. After putting their suitcases in the guestroom (“Let’s remember to be careful with the beds. Don’t want to destroy another one, Johnny.” “Yeah, I think we’d better put some blankets and pillows on the floor when we wanna have sex.” “Make love, John. When we wanna make love.” “I know, I know, you romantic fool”) they went down for a cup of tea and a chat with Jim and Mike.

“I wish you’d be able to visit more often, son, but I understand your schedule is too busy for that. So I’m happy you can spend at least a few days with me now.” “Yeah, with “Rubber Soul” in the record shops, we have a bit of time to relax before we start recording again. We’re not due in the studio until April.”

“You have more than three months off? You lucky bastards!” Mike said. “I bet you’ll be going on some exotic holiday again, then. And maybe you have some time to go out and find some pretty birds to date. Don’t you think it’s time to settle down and start a family? I’d love to become an uncle, Paul!”

Paul blushed and felt very uneasy. He would love to make Mike an uncle, would love to make his dad a granddad, but that was never going to happen, was it? “Just because we don’t have to be back in the studio, doesn’t mean there’s nothing planned, Mike” John answered. “There’s always some promotional work to be done, a photo shoot, an interview, things like that. And we have to write new songs, of course, otherwise we’ve got nothing to record in April. Paul and I hardly ever have a lot of time off.”

A few days later, when they were relaxing in the living room, watching television, Mike suggested they’d go for a moped ride and pay their cousin Bett a visit. John politely declined, the McCartney clan not really being his thing. So Paul and Mike decided to go together, hitting the road on the dark, ice cold night that was lightened up by a beautiful full moon. The moon looked so fantastic that Paul forgot to keep his eyes on the road. And before he knew it, his face smashed the pavement.

“Jesus, Paul! You’re mouth’s bleeding, and your forehead as well!” Mike cried out in horror. “Let’s go to Bett’s quickly, we’re almost there, see if she can fix you up.”

Bett cleaned up Paul’s wounds and called her neighbour, who happened to be a doctor. The doctor came in, stinking of gin, and decided Paul’s lip needed stitches, and with an unsteady hand and without any anaesthetics, he stitched up Paul’s upper lip. “God, Paul, you look like you’ve been in a fight with Cassius Clay! You’ve chipped your front tooth as well. I hope you don’t have any photo shoots planned any time soon. The way you look, you’ll scare off all your fan girls.”

Paul looked at himself in the mirror. Damn, he really did look horrible. John was not going to like this! He doubted Brian would be very pleased either. Their manager always emphasized Paul was “the face” of the band and his good looks were part of the band’s attraction to their many female fans. Well, nothing to be done about it.

***

“Oh my God, Paul! What happened? Your face! Your beautiful face!” John cried out, completely in shock when he saw his lover walk in. “I had a run in with the pavement, and I’m afraid the pavement won.” And then Mike added: “Bett’s neighbour stitched him up, so I’m sure he’ll be alright.” _“Bett’s neighbour?_ You let some neighbour stitch his lip?” John’s asked Mike in total disbeliever and then turned to Paul. “Some neighbour put a needle in your mouth? Why didn’t you go to a doctor? That man may have done more damage than good to your face! Oh my God, Paul! Your beautiful face!”

“Bett’s neighbour is a doctor, John. I’m not sure if he was sober though......” John groaned. “Jesus, Paul, just look at you. Your tooth is chipped as well. Are you in pain?” John sounded very worried.“I feel a bit sore, but nothing too much. Having your lip stitched without anaesthetics is not exactly a nice experience but.....” _“No anaesthetics?_ He stitched you up without any anaesthetics? While he was drunk? Are you sure he’s not a butcher?” “Don’t be so dramatic, John. I’m not dying or anything. It’ll heal.” “But what if you’re left with a scar?” “Then I’ll have a scar. Nothing to be done about it.” “Christ Paul, how can you be so indifferent? It’s your face we’re talking about! Your beautiful face that might be ruined!” “Well, maybe they’ll finally stop calling me “the Cute Beatle”. I’ve just about have had enough of that anyway.”

***

They spend some nice days at Mimi’s after Christmas. She actually had been warm and inviting towards Paul. She was really warming up to him and it made John happy. Of course she had scolded Paul about being irresponsible, driving a moped in a cold, icy dark night. And of course she scolded John for losing too much weight. She was very proud of their MBEs, but of course she scolded them for not having cut their hair before going to Buckingham Palace. But most of the time she was alright, and it was good seeing her again.

Of course the botch job Bett’s neighbour had done, had left Paul’s upper lip swollen and scarred, and Brian was horrified. “You better stay out of sight for the next couple of weeks, Paul, or you’ll upset the fans. How could you have done this to your beautiful face? Why didn’t you call me? I could have arranged for a proper plastic surgeon to take care of it.” “Yeah, well I didn’t really think about that, Brian, so nothing to be done about it. Let’s just be grateful you haven’t got anything important planned for us the next couple of weeks.”

So John and Paul spend the rest of their days off at Kenwood, far away from the fans and press, so Paul’s lip could heal and they could write songs for the next album. And enjoy relaxing afternoons on the couch with a book and a joint. And spend a lot of time in bed. “Fuck, Paul, I can’t even kiss you properly. I hope it heals quickly, I really miss those luscious lips of yours on mine. And get that tooth fixed! I need my bunny to have his bunny teeth!”

“I don’t like going to the dentist, John, you know that. Maybe people won’t notice?” “Won’t notice? You’ve got to be joking, baby. Have it fixed, alright? Can’t have that sharp tooth injuring my cock when you give me a blow job.” “Well, until my lip is healed, I guess _you’ll_ be the one giving _me_ blowjobs, Johnny boy. As a matter of fact, I’d like to have one right now, please.”

***

On the 21st of January, George married Pattie. George had asked Paul to be his best man and Paul had proudly agreed. Ringo was out of the country, on holiday with Maureen and little Zak, and John wasn’t feeling very well that day, so it was just Paul and Brian who attended the wedding. Paul drank a bit too much, because he felt a tad sad. He was happy for George of course; Pattie was a beautiful girl and they would undoubtedly create beautiful children together.

Both Ringo and George were married now, having found their soul mates. And Ringo had a lovely little boy as well. It made Paul feel a bit jealous. He didn’t like feeling jealous, but he couldn’t help it. Paul had also found his soul mate, but he would never be able to get married to the love of his life. Never say those wedding vows to John in front of friends and family. In front of the entire world. Nor have children with him. Life really sucked sometimes.

***

Paul wanted to go back to Cavendish a week later. Robert Fraser had called and asked if he wanted to see an exhibition he thought Paul would find interesting. Paul was a bit hesitant, after John had acted so jealously because he had gone to Paris with Robert, but he really wanted to go. He had absolutely loved visiting all kinds of art galleries with Robert. Maybe John wanted to come along? After all, his lover had been to Art College. That way John wouldn’t have to be jealous.

He managed to persuade John to go to London by telling him they would also go to the Indica bookshop. John loved books, so the prospect of buying some new interesting ones, made him willing to go back to Cavendish. “But you’re not going anywhere with Robert without me, baby. I don’t trust the guy not to make a move on you when he’s alone with you.” “You know I’d never act on it Johnny, we’ve talked about this, I would never cheat on you.” “I know, I know, my Princess, and I _do_ trust you on this, it’s just _him_ I don’t trust. And I don’t want him to make you feel uncomfortable when he tries to talk you out of your pants, bunny.”

“I only take my pants off for you, Johnny boy. And what’s with the new nickname? _Princess?_ I’m not a bird, as you know very well. So if you want to give me a Royal title, why not calling me your Prince?”

“Because you’re too beautiful to be a Prince. You _have_ to be a Princess, there’s no doubt about that. I’ve always thought you look a bit like Snow White, with your ivory skin, big eyes and dark locks, _Princess.”_ Paul chuckled. “And I suppose you’re one of the dwarfs then?” _“One of the dwarfs_ How can you insult me like that?” John cried out in mock horror. “Of course I’m not a dwarf, my beautiful Princess, I’m the _Prince_ who kisses you awake of course.” John planted a kiss on Paul’s lips. “Ringo is the dwarf of course.”

***

John went along with Paul and Robert, and really enjoyed the exhibition. Paul was right, of course. He loved art just as much as Paul did. He just was too lazy to visit galleries. It required walking, and John would rather stay in bed, or spend his days off lying on the couch reading a book. With Paul nestled beside him naturally. He was very pleased with himself as he saw the look on Robert’s face when the man realized he was not going to spend the day alone with Paul, but would have to put up with John tagging along.

On the morning of their fifth day in Cavendish, John woke up, feeling cold. He reached out beside him, in search for the warm body of his partner, only to find Paul wasn’t there. He saw a faint ray of sunlight shining through a chink in the curtains and then looked at the alarm clock. 10.30. He groaned. Paul was up already of course. For some reason the boy always thought he should be up and about before 11.00. Always restless. A busy little bunny. Always afraid he might miss out on something important if he didn’t wake up in time.

John didn’t like getting up before noon. He didn’t see the need for it. He had hated those days when they were filming and he had to get up early because they started filming at 8 am. Ridiculously early that had been.

He sighed. He missed the warmth of Paul’s naked body, missed his scent. And his lips. He really needed to kiss those luscious lips. He decided to get out of bed, put on his bathrobe and see if Paul had some tea ready. And then kiss him of course and see if he could convince him to come back to bed to indulge in some naughty playing. Maybe they could fuck? No, not fucking, making love, that’s what Paul always said.

He went downstairs to the kitchen. Paul was sitting at the kitchen table, with a mug of tea and the newspaper spread out. Paul loved reading the papers in the morning. Always wanting to keep up with the things going on in the world. “Morning, love, missed you when I woke up. Any tea left in the pot?”

He walked over to the kitchen counter to pour himself a mug of tea. Paul didn’t answer. “Cat’s got your tongue this morning then?” He turned to face Paul and suddenly it hit him. Something was wrong. Paul’s face was sickly pale and his eyes were fixated on the newspaper his hands were clutching, the knuckles white. “Paul? Paul, what’s wrong, love? Paul, baby?”

At first Paul didn’t answer, he just kept staring at the paper in front of him. Then a soft trembling voice whispered “I always thought Maxwell was his last name......”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everybody! Let's hope 2021 will be a better one than 2020. I'll try to keep up the good work by posting twice a week if possible and I hope you'll all keep reading.
> 
> So, what's that story in the newspaper, that seemed to have upset Paul, all about? Read about it in the next chapter.


	77. I READ THE NEWS TODAY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul throught the years.
> 
> A story in the newspaper upsets Paul very much. And a phonecall upsets him even more. And then some visitors appear at Cavendish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul had woken up before John, as usual. He stared lovingly at the face of his peacefully sleeping lover beside him for some time. It never ceased to amaze him how beautiful John looked when he was sleeping, his features so soft and relaxed. Like an innocent little boy. Tenderly, as not to wake him up, he caressed John’s cheek with the back of his hand. God, he loved the man so much. And God, how the man could sleep! He smiled softly as he studied John’s features for a bit longer, wondering if he should cuddle up to him or leave the warmth of their bed to go downstairs for a cup of tea and the morning paper.

His eye caught the alarm clock on the bedside table. 10.05. Time to get up. Maybe after he’d had his tea and had browsed through the headlines, he could go up to the music room and work out the idea for this song he had in his head since yesterday night.

Carefully, so he wouldn’t wake John up, he slipped out of bed, put on his bathrobe and walked downstairs barefoot. John always told him to wear his slippers so he wouldn’t get cold feet when walking on the kitchen floor’s tiles, but Paul always liked walking barefoot. It made him feel grounded, more connected to the world. He put on the kettle and went to the front door to get the morning paper, Thisbe curling herself around his bare legs, meowing. “Morning, girl, want something to eat, do you?” He walked back to the kitchen, threw the paper on the table, and prepared two bowls of cat food. Pryamus must have heard him do so, because he walked into the kitchen, lazily stretching himself. “Morning Pryamus, hungry are you?” The kettle whistled, signing the water was cooking and Paul prepared the tea the way he always liked it. The mug of tea in one hand, he petted both cats shortly, before sitting at the kitchen table and turning his attention to the front page.

He quickly glanced through the headlines. **“RUSSIAN SPACESHIP LUNA 9 LANDS ON THE MOON”** was the first line that caught his eye. Well, those Russians beat the Americans to it! Wonder how long it will take before we put a man on the moon. There was a follow up story about the elections in India, where Indira Ghandi had been elected Prime Minister. Good thing, a woman heading the government, Paul thought, she might be good for India. There was also something about a soccer match, but Paul wasn’t really interested that much in sports.

He turned the page and the headline on page three immediately caught his eyes: **“LIVERPOOL MAN ACCUSED OF SEXUAL ABUSE”** and when he read the line underneath **“Young man accuses babysitter of abuse. Maxwell E. taken in for questioning”** he felt his blood turn cold and all colour leave his face. His mouth suddenly felt very dry as he read the rest of the article, clutching the newspaper in his trembling hands. He read the article again, and again. Maxwell E. Could it be......? It had to be. From Allerton it said. A babysitter. Sexual abuse. A young boy.......But he had always thought Maxwell was his last name. He had always called him Mr. Maxwell.

His mind hadn’t registered John coming into the kitchen. John spoke to him. He heard his voice but couldn’t make out the words, his mind swirling with thoughts. “I always thought Maxwell was his last name.....”

***

“What did you say, darling?” “I always thought Maxwell was his last name......” John frowned. What on earth was Paul talking about? “What do you mean, baby?” “I always thought Maxwell was his last name.....” John was confused. Paul looked completely forlorn and kept repeating the same line. “I always thought Maxwell was his last name....”

John walked over to the table and sat next to Paul, feeling worried. “What are you talking about, bunny, whose last name?” “I always thought Maxwell was his last name. But it says here.....” and he nodded at the newspaper, “it says Maxwell E. So Maxwell is his first name and he has a last name that starts with an E. I always thought Maxwell was his last name......”

John looked down at the paper that Paul still clutched in his hands, then back to Paul’s pale face and back to the newspaper again. He read the headline that said **“LIVERPOOL MAN ACCUSED OF SEXUAL ABUSE”** and underneath in bold letters **“Young man accuses babysitter of abuse. Maxwell E. taken in for questioning”.** John’s eyes widened in horror. “What the fuck......” He grabbed the paper out of Paul’s hands and read the rest of the article.

> Maxwell E., a 44-year old resident of Allerton, Liverpool,  
>  has been taken in for questioning by the Merseyside police,  
>  after a 22-year old man has come forward accusing him of  
>  sexually abusing him when he was a child. The Oxford medical  
>  student, former resident of Liverpool, has told the police that  
>  Maxwell E. worked as a babysitter for his family for 2 years,  
>  and that the man sexually abused him during this time. The  
>  young man, Tony Anderson, was 11 years old at the time the  
>  abuse started. Maxwell E. has been taking into custody and  
>  is being questioned about the alleged abuse. The Merseyside  
>  Police Department has stated they take the accusations very  
>  seriously, especially since the supposed crime involved a minor. 

***

“I always thought Maxwell was his last name.” John heard Paul repeating that same line over and over again. And although John was holding the newspaper now, Paul’s hands were still cramped, like he was still holding the paper himself. And his eyes were focused on the spot where the paper had been, the mug of tea forgotten and grown cold. He didn’t seem to notice that the paper was gone, didn’t seem to acknowledge John’s presence. His face was sickly pale and John noticed he was shivering. He looked to be in total shock.

He put his arm around Paul’s shoulders and hugged him close. “Baby? Baby are you alright? Honey, look at me, look at me. Can you hear me?” Slowly, very slowly, Paul turned his face to look at John. The look in his eyes scared John. They seemed empty, weren’t really seeing him. He hugged Paul even closer and his other hand cupped Paul’s cheek. The skin felt cold as ice. “Baby? Baby can you hear me? Talk to me, darling, you’re scaring me.”

“I always thought Maxwell was his last name.” John swallowed. Paul was definitely in shock. John glanced at the paper again, it had slipped out of his hands and fallen to the kitchen floor, the headline still clearly readable. “Paul, do you think......do you suppose......Baby, you reckon it’s the same man? That it’s the same bastard that......who.....hurt you?”

Paul’s eyes met his, and suddenly there was some recognition in them. “John? John, how long have you been here? I didn’t hear you come down.” John softly stroke Paul’s cheek and pushed some stray hair out of his eyes. “Do you think it’s the same man, baby?” He saw Paul’s eyes glancing at the paper on the ground. “It says Maxwell E. from Allerton. How many Maxwells from Allerton who babysit young boys, are there?”

Paul suddenly seemed to come to life again, a blush appearing on his pale cheeks and he spoke agitated. “It must be the same man, it must be! So he didn’t abuse just me, there was another boy as well. I’m not the only one he’s hurt. I’m not the only one.......”

John kissed Paul’s cheek tenderly. “Yeah, apparently you weren’t the only one. That bastard couldn’t keep his hands of another boy as well. My God, what a monster! Makes you wonder how many more victims there are. Well, at least he’s going to pay for it now, he’s going to jail for what he’s done!”

Paul’s eyes held an insecure look in them. “Do you think so? Do you think he’ll go to jail?” “Of course he will, baby! An adult sexually abusing a child? Of course he’ll go to jail! He’ll finally get what he deserves! This is good news, love. I know you’re shocked, and so am I, but it’s good news. Justice will finally be done, I’m sure of it.”

Suddenly the phone rang. They both looked up at the device hanging on the kitchen wall, startled. “Who might that be?” John wondered out loud, as he stood up to answer. “Hello?” “John? John is that you? It’s Mike. Is Paul there?” John covered the mouthpiece with his hand and whispered to Paul: “It’s your brother. You wanna talk to him? Or shall I tell him to call back later?” Paul sighed. Why on earth did Mike have to call right now? He was not exactly in the mood for a nice chat with his brother. This was really bad timing. But he didn’t often have the chance to talk to him, so he’d better take the call. “I’ll talk to him, John, just give me a sec, wanna pour myself a glass of water first.”

“He’ll be right over, Mike.” Paul took a sip from his water and walked over to the phone, taking the receiver out of John’s hand. John reassuringly squeezed Paul’s arm softly and walked over to the kitchen counter, where his mug of tea was getting cold.

***

“Hey, Mike, what’s up?” Paul tried to sound cheerful. “Hi Paul! Say, have you read the morning paper yet?” Paul felt himself freeze and swallowed nervously. “Yeah, yeah I did.” “Did you read that article about Mr. Maxwell? That some guy accused him of sexual abuse? Can you believe that? He looked after us for years! He’s the nicest guy ever! He wouldn’t do something like that! I mean, he never laid a hand on us in all those years, so why would he abuse another boy? I think that guy is lying through his teeth! It’s a disgrace, slandering Mr. Maxwell like that, don’t you think so?”

Paul lost his grip on the glass of water he was still holding, and it fell to the floor, shattering in a thousand pieces, water spraying everywhere. John turned around, startled. “Paul? What on earth....” Paul’s face had turned ghostly pale again, his eyes wide, he breathing was uneven and heavy, like he had trouble catching his breath. This looked like an anxiety attack! “Paul! Calm down, just.....” Paul dropped the receiver and suddenly ran out of the kitchen, not noticing the glass splinters injuring his bare feet. “Paul! Paul, wait! Fuck!”

John picked up the receiver and yelled at Paul’s brother: “What the hell did you say to him, Mike!” “I just asked him about that article in the paper about our former babysitter. Some guy accused him of sexual abuse. That’s so unfair! The man looked after us for years, John, and he never ever touched us. And then suddenly Paul was gone.”

John groaned. “He never touched _you,_ Mike. He never touched _you._ But _Paul_ has paid the price for that! I’m going to see if he’s alright.” “What the hell do you mean by that, John? John? Answer me! John!” “I have to go now, Mike. Goodbye.” “John! Jo...” John hung up and rushed upstairs to find Paul.

***

He found Paul in the bathroom, vomiting. “Shhh, darling, it’s alright, it’s alright.” He softly rubbed Paul’s back. “It’s alright, baby, it’s alright. Here, let me get you some water.” He turned around to fill a glass. Paul was panting and sniffing and suddenly sobs tore through his trembling body. John forgot about the water and sat down on the floor next to him in a second, taking Paul in his arms. “Oh my poor baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Mike shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry, little one.” Paul clanged to him desperately, sobbing on John’s chest. “He said..... he said......” “I know, I know, baby, I know. Just calm down, love. Calm down......Shhh, love, just calm down. Everything will be alright, baby, I love you, I love you......”

John held Paul as close as he could, stroking the dark hair and burying his nose in it, whispering sweet nothings and reassuring words. They sat on the floor for what seemed like hours, until Paul’s sobs were fading away and his body relaxed a bit. When there only was a little sniffle every now and then, John carefully let go of Paul’s body, gently pushing him away a bit, taking the boy’s head between his hands, while tenderly wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “Hey, feeling a little better? Shall I get you that glass of water now?” Paul nodded. “Yeah, please.”

Paul drank the offered water eagerly and then sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, John, I’m sorry for reacting so ridiculously, I’m sorry.” John caressed Paul’s cheek and shook his head. “You’ve got nothing to feel sorry for, baby, no need to apologize for anything. It’s only natural to be upset after what Mike said. But I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you, didn’t mean to upset you. After all, he doesn’t know, Paul, he doesn’t know......Now let’s get up from this cold, hard floor, darling, my butt is starting to hurt.”

Paul chuckled through his sniffling. “Can’t have that, can we? Next thing you know, you want me to kiss it better.” “Now that’s an idea! Come on, love, get on your feet......shit!” “What? What’s wrong?” “Look at your feet! They’re bleeding! I almost forgot you stepped in the broken glass in the kitchen. We’re gonna have to clean up the wounds first, see if there are any splinters in them and put some bandages on them. Just stay put, alright, and I’ll get the first aid kit.” John stood up, but then hesitated. “Eh, Paul? Do we actually _have_ a first aid kit?”

***

Of course they _did_ have a first aid kit. And John miraculously managed to clean up Paul’s wounds, picking out some glass splinters with a pair of tweezers, and bandaged them, although with a lot of directions from Paul (“Where did you learn all those things Macca?” “Well, my mum was a nurse....”) and he then managed to get Paul on his feet. Paul winced as he slowly walked to the bedroom and sat down on the bed. “Now just lie down for a while, baby, get some rest, okay? That’s what you need right now, just get some sleep, alright?” John said as he tucked Paul in and turned out the light. “Where are you going then, Johnny? Won’t you stay with me?” John tenderly pressed a kiss to Paul’s forehead. “I’m just going down to the kitchen to clean up the mess there, love. And then I’ll come back and join you, okay? Now, just you close your eyes and I’ll be back before you know it.” He pressed another kiss to Paul’s lips. “I love you.” “Love you too, Johnny.”

***

After cleaning up the glass splinters and water from the kitchen floor, John picked up the newspaper. He sat down at the table, staring at the article that had shaken Paul so much. And had shaken him. Somehow he had thought that what happened to Paul was a thing of the past. Paul had confided in him about the sexual abuse and not having to carry that weight alone anymore, had done Paul a lot of good. He hardly had nightmares or anxiety attacks anymore. He had also overcome his fears about anal sex, and their sex life thrived. But now it was all back. The memories. The pain. The fear. Would it ever stop? Maybe if that bastard was locked away behind bars, maybe then Paul would finally get the peace of mind he deserved.

He sighed deeply. Poor Paul. And that poor other young man. How many other innocent boys had that monster abused? God, he wished he could get his hands on that man, rip his head off, cut his balls off! But since that wasn’t possible, he’d have to settle for seeing him locked up for his deeds. Preferably for the rest of his life. He stood up from the kitchen table and went upstairs, to find Paul vast asleep underneath the blankets. Carefully, making sure he didn’t wake up the young man, he crawled into bed next to him and gently spooned him. And once again he reminded himself of a promise he’d made, both to Paul as well as to himself: he would make sure nobody would ever hurt the love of his life again.

***

John woke up a couple of hours later, by something tickling his nose. They obviously had shifted their positions in their sleep, since he was lying on his back now, with Paul nestled to his side, his dark head buried on his chest, just beneath his chin. Paul’s tousled hair was the thing tickling his nose and he just about managed to keep himself from sneezing. He didn’t want to wake his Sleeping Beauty up. Or his Snow White. He did have to pee though. Gently, very gently he pushed Paul’s head away from his chest until it landed on the pillow. Paul mumbled some unintelligible words, nestled his head in the pillow and started snoring softly. It made John smile. His beautiful boy.

Noticing it was getting dark outside, he looked at the alarm clock. 6.15pm. Wow, they really had slept the entire day! Suddenly his stomach growled and he remembered he hadn’t eaten anything today.

Maybe a bowl of rice crispies would do the trick. So after a visit to the bathroom and making sure his lover was still asleep, he put on his bathrobe and slippers and went downstairs. Just as he was about to make his way into the kitchen, the bell rang, signalling there was someone at the gate. Now who could that be? If it was one of those fan girls again, trying to get in, he’d give her a piece of his mind!

He pushed the button on the intercom. “Yes?” “John? John is that you? It’s Mike. Dad’s here as well. Can we come in?” John sighed. Paul’s dad and brother. Shit. They probably wanted know what was going on. And Paul was still asleep. Should he wake him up? Or let him enjoy the sleep he so obviously needed after his breakdown this morning?

He pushed the button to open the gate, and then opened the front door, to see Mike’s car driving in. What did he say to Mike again on the phone this morning? “He never touched _you,_ Mike. He never touched _you._ But _Paul_ has paid the price for that!” Fuck! They were going to ask him what he had meant by that. And what was he going to tell them? It wasn’t up to him to tell Paul’s well kept secret. He had promised him not to tell anybody, and Paul trusted him to keep the knowledge to himself. But knowing old Jim McCartney, he probably wouldn’t leave the house without an explanation.

Mike and Jim walked to the front door and he could see worry and anxiety on both men’s faces. “John, you’d better explain yourself!” Paul’s dad didn’t even greet him.“What did you mean when you told Mike that Paul paid the price for Mike not being touched by Maxwell Edison?” So that’s what the E. stands for. Edison. Edison is his last name, not Maxwell. “Why don’t you two come in first. It’s always such a long drive coming down from the North.”

He showed Jim and Mike to the living room, chasing Pyramus and Thisbe, both nestled on the couch, away. Both cats looked at him offended. “Shall I put the kettle on? I’m sure you’re both dying for a cup of tea.” “The tea can wait, John. Where’s Paul? Where’s my son? I want to talk to him.” John sighed and sat down in the armchair across from the couch. “Paul’s in bed, he’s sleeping, and I don’t want to wake him up. He was quite upset after Mike’s phone call this morning.”

“But I don’t understand, John. What was he so upset about? And what did you mean when you said that _Paul paid the price?_ It sounded like something was terribly wrong and it got me really worried. When I told dad about our conversation, we both decided to come over to find out what’s wrong. So what’s going on, John? Why was Paul so upset, and what did you mean when you said that Mr. Maxwell didn’t touch _me?_ Will you please tell us what’s going on?” Mike asked him.

John hesitated a few moments. Should he tell Jim and Mike, betraying Paul’s trust? Wouldn’t Paul hate him if he told them? But wasn’t it time they knew what had happened to Paul? That the “nice man” as Mike had described him, was in fact a monster who had sexually abused their son and brother for years? Would Paul be able to live with the knowledge that Jim and Mike believed that the bastard was actually a nice guy who couldn’t possible rape a child? Wouldn’t that just add to Paul’s sorrow? Wouldn’t it make things even worse?

So John made a decision. “That Maxwell guy may not have touched _you,_ Mike, but he sure as hell touched _Paul._ He sexually abused Paul, _raped Paul,_ for years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So John has told Jim and Mike what has happened to Paul. But how will they react to that news? And how will Paul react to his father and brother knowing?


	78. AN EYE-OPENER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> How will Jim and Mike react to the news of Paul having been sexually abused? And how will Paul react to his father and brother knowing? And Mike realizes something........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> his is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Paul opened his eyes, and for a moment he didn’t know where he was. How come he was in bed? He was sure he’d already gotten up this morning. Or had he dreamt that? But John wasn’t lying next to him. And since John usually slept longer than him, it was strange for Paul to still be in bed with John already up. Maybe he’d gone to the bathroom for a pee? He looked at the alarm clock. It was one of those modern digital ones that showed whether it was before or after midday. It said 6.45pm.

Paul was confused. Why was he still in bed? And where was John? He moved his legs and winced. Why did his feet hurt so much? He raised the blanket to look at his feet. Bandages. On his feet. Why were there...... Glass splinters. Phone call. Mike. The morning paper. Mr. Maxwell. Whose last name wasn’t Maxwell......Suddenly it all came back.

He shivered. Could do with a hot cup of tea. And John. He needed John. John, whose arms around him always made him feel safe. He decided to go downstairs to find him. And that much needed cup of tea. He wondered if he should wear slippers. But his feet probably wouldn’t fit in them with those bandages on them. And then again, he didn’t even know where they were, after all, he never wore them. Did he even have any? He shook his head. Why the hell was he worrying about wearing slippers anyway. He had other things to worry about.

He walked down the stairs slowly. Damn, his feet hurt. He had taken a few steps down, when he heard voices coming from the living room. Voices? Did they have company? Had he forgotten they were having visitors today?

He took a few more steps down and suddenly he recognized one of the voices. Dad! When did his dad come over? He was sure dad wasn’t supposed to come over to Cavendish today, he surely would have remembered that.

He carefully shuffled through the entrance hall, making his way to the living room. The door was slightly ajar, and just as Paul was pushing it open further, he heard John’s voice: “That Maxwell guy may not have touched _you,_ Mike, but he sure as hell touched _Paul._ He sexually abused Paul, _raped Paul,_ for years.”

He saw his dad and Mike sitting on the couch, and John sitting on the armchair. John’s words made him gasp for air so loudly that all three men turned towards the door and cried out in union: “Paul!”

He saw John stand up quickly and come over to him, his face full of worry. “Paul?” “You promised me, John. You promised me you would never tell anybody.....” John’s hands gripped Paul’s biceps. “I know, baby, I know. But I had to tell them, you see. I couldn’t have them thinking that Maxwell bastard was a nice man who would never hurt a child. I couldn’t have them believing he’s a good man who never laid a hand on you. And that that young man from the newspaper lied about what he did to him. They have to know what that man is capable of. Because it only hurts you more if they defend him. And I don’t want you to get hurt anymore.....”

Paul tried to pull himself out of John’s grip, but his hands only held on to him tighter. And then suddenly dad was beside John. His face pale and worried. “Son? Son, is John telling the truth? Did Maxwell touch you? Hurt you? Did he.....did he..... abuse you? Sexually? Son? Paul?” Paul looked at his father in despair. He didn’t want his dad to know. He didn’t want Mike to know. He didn’t want anybody to know! John shouldn’t have said anything. He had promised him! He felt tears welling up in his eyes.

And then John’s hands let go of him and suddenly he found himself in his dad’s arms, the tears spilling over and sobs raking through his body uncontrollably. “Oh my boy, my poor, poor boy. What did that man do to you? Why didn’t you tell me? He should have kept his hands of off you. If only I had known.....My poor boy.” He felt his dad’s hand pressing his head to his shoulder, stroking his hair tenderly. “Oh son, why didn’t I see? Why didn’t I notice? If only I had known....Oh my boy, my beautiful boy. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.....”

Mike had gotten up from the couch as well and stood beside Paul, his hand caressing his brother’s back. “God, Paul, I’m so sorry. I never noticed he was doing something to you. And he never touched me, not ever.” “Paul made sure he didn’t touch you, Mike.” John had stepped aside a little to let Jim and Mike stand close to Paul and he spoke softly. “Whenever we had band practice on a night your dad had to work, he would cancel the practice to stay at home. He didn’t want that bastard to be alone with you, and do the same to you what he did to him. Which meant that instead of doing what he liked so much, playing with the band, he stayed at home, knowing that man would rape him. Just to keep you safe. He sacrificed himself for you.”

“Oh my God, Paul. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” Mike had tears running down his cheeks now. “You stayed at home, even though you could escape what he did to you, so he couldn’t hurt me? Why did you do that? You could have saved yourself!” Paul raised his head from his dad’s shoulder and looked at his younger brother, his eyes red from crying. “I couldn’t let him do to you what he did to me, Mikey. You’re my little brother! I’d rather have him hurting me than you.” “Oh Paul, I can’t believe you sacrificed yourself for me like that. How can I ever thank you enough?” “There’s no need to thank me, Mikey. A big brother watches out for his kid brother. It’s what you do.”

Mike now wrapped his arms around his brother. “Thank you anyway, Paul. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize what was happening. And I’m so sorry about what I said on the phone earlier, about not believing that young man’s accusations. I’m so sorry I upset you.” “It’s okay, Mike, you didn’t know, you don’t have to apologize.”  
Jim, who had stepped aside, giving Mike a chance to hug Paul, caressed Paul’s hair. “Why don’t we sit down, boys, and have a cup of tea. I think we can all use one right now. John could you make us all that cuppa you were about to make?”

:

***

John went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Standing in the living room, seeing his lover break down and cry in his dad’s arms, had made him feel so helpless. He had wanted to take Paul in his arms and console him, but he couldn’t do that in front of Jim and Mike. So he had stood there seeing Jim and Mike hold Paul, cry together with Paul, while he felt the tears streaming down from his eyes. He hated seeing Paul so upset and not being able to do something.

He put four mugs, teaspoons and the pot of tea on a tray, got the milk out of the fridge and together with the sugar he went for the living room again. Paul was sitting on the couch, Jim and Mike on either side of him, Jim’s arms around Paul’s shoulder. Paul was talking, softly, in a monotone voice, almost emotionless. He was telling his story. It reminded John of the night Paul had told him about the sexual abuse. Almost like he was talking about somebody else instead of himself. And he remembered how shocked he had been and how he had suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to protect Paul from future harm. And how Paul had been afraid that John wouldn’t want him anymore. The memory made him choke up.

He put the tray on the table, poured the tea and asked Jim and Mike how they took their tea. He didn’t have to ask Paul. He knew exactly how Paul liked his tea, especially when he was upset. “Here, baby, I put some extra sugar in it.” He squatted in front of Paul’s knees.” Drink it up, darling, while it’s still hot, it’ll do you good.” He placed the mug in Paul’s hand, and Paul gave him a grateful glance. “Thanks Johnny.” John softly squeezed Paul’s knee. “You’re welcome, love.”

They all drank their tea and Paul finished his story. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see what he did to you. How could I have been so blind? I should have noticed something was wrong. What a lousy father I’ve been. I’m so, so sorry, son. God, I feel so guilty.” Paul softly smiled at his dad. “There’s no need to feel guilty, dad. You didn’t do anything wrong. And you’re not a lousy father at all. You wanted to make sure we were not left alone at night. Not every father would have done that. You weren’t to know the man would turn out to be some pervert. And I did everything I could to make sure you didn’t find out, to make sure Mike wouldn’t find out, that _nobody_ would find out. I was so ashamed about what I let that man do to me. So if it’s anybody’s fault, it’s mine.”

“No, Paul, you’re not to blame for anything!” John cried out. “You did nothing wrong. Nothing! You were a child, baby, an innocent little boy, and that bastard should have kept his dirty hands of you. You didn’t _let_ him hurt you, he _forced_ himself upon you. And he’s going to pay for it now, at last. He’s going to be trialled, found guilty, convicted and locked up. Forever, if I could have a say in it. A grown man should never hurt a child like that. So don’t you blame yourself for anything, love, not ever!”

“John is right, son, you’re not to blame for _any_ of this” Jim said. “If anyone is to blame, it’s _me. I’m_ the one who let that man enter our house, _I’m_ the one who left you alone with him, _I’m_ the one who didn’t notice what was going on. I’m your father, I _should_ have noticed. I should have _protected_ you. And I didn’t. I’ve really failed you as a father. I’ve really failed you. I’m so sorry.”

“Please dad, don’t be so hard on yourself. You didn’t fail me, you’re a wonderful dad! How could you have known what that man was going to do? Who possibly thinks about something like that happening? And I was too scared and too ashamed to talk about it. I still am so ashamed about it.....”

Mike sighed deeply. “Oh Paul, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. It wasn’t your fault. There’s only one person to blame and that’s that Maxwell pervert. And I’m so glad he’s going to jail. Someone like him should be locked up forever, so he can never abuse another child again. Who knows how many other victims he’s made.”

None of them had realized how long they had been talking until the clock struck nine. “Maybe we should get something to eat. I don’t think we’ve eaten anything today, have we Paul? I’ll just get dressed quickly and pop over to that fish and chips shop a few blocks away. Mike, can you drive me there? I have a history of getting kind of lost if I drive myself.” Paul chuckled, remembering how John ended up in a village on the wrong side of London on his way to Kenwood. “Now that’s what I call an understatement, Johnny!”

:

***

Mike had dived into his fish and chips like a hungry wolf. “This is really excellent, John” Jim said surprised. “I didn’t know they could make such good fish and chips in London.” John chuckled. “London is not the other side of the world, you know. It’s only a few hour’s drive from good old Liverpool.” He looked at Paul, who moved some chips around on his plate. He hadn’t eaten anything yet. “Paul, you have to eat something, love, you haven’t eaten all day.” Paul winced a bit. “I’m not hungry, Johnny.” “I know you’re not, baby, but you do have to eat something. At least try some chips, alright?

John softly touched Paul’s hand. “Just eat a little bit, okay? For me?” Paul sighed, looked up at John and sighed again. He was never hungry when he was upset. “John is right, son, you’ve really got to eat a bit” Jim agreed with John. “Alright, just some chips then.”

After finishing their fish and chips, with Mike eating the remains of Paul’s portion (“Jesus, Mike, where do you put all that? You’re almost as hungry as Harrison!” John had said in amazement), Jim suggested he and Mike finding a hotel to spend the night. “Don’t be silly dad, the two of you can sleep here of course.” “But I thought you didn’t finish the guest rooms yet, at least that’s what you’ve told me when we talked on the phone a few weeks ago.”

“No, you’re right, they’re not finished yet” John said. “But the two of you can sleep in my room, and I’ll sleep with Paul.” “I don’t want to drive you out of your room, John.” “Don’t worry about that, sir, Paul and I are used sharing a room. We did so in our apartments in Liverpool and over here in Green Street, and we share a room while we’re on tour as well, so it’s no problem at all. Shall I show you the room? I think going to bed early is a good idea, we can all use some sleep right now. So follow me.”

:

***

Mike didn’t know what to think. He had noticed something that had given him a strange feeling. It was the way John acted with Paul. How many times in the past few hours had John addressed his brother with words like “baby”, “love” or “darling”? And the way he had touched Paul’s hand and thighs? The way he looked at Paul, how protective he seemed of Paul? And the way Paul had looked at John a couple of times and always called him “Johnny” in such an affectionate way? He really didn’t know what to make of their weird behaviour.

He opened the wardrobe to put his clothes in it, expecting having to move John’s clothes aside to make room for them. But the wardrobe was empty. Not a single piece of John’s clothes. And when he entered the ensuite bathroom, he found not a single one of John’s toiletries there. If this was John’s room, then where were John’s belongings? It didn’t seem like John’s room at all. But if John didn’t occupy this room, his room, like he had said, and if the guest rooms weren’t ready yet, where the hell did John sleep?

Mike suddenly had a strange feeling in his stomach. And that feeling wasn’t caused by too much fish and chips. It was caused by the realisation that John shared a room with Paul. Not just tonight, but every night. And why would John and his brother share a room, share a bed even, since there was only one king size bed in Paul’s room, if there were two completely furnished bedrooms in the house? Wasn’t that a bit strange? But then again, they always seemed so close. Too close, perhaps? After all, you don’t call your friend “baby” all of the time, even if he’s your best friend.

He remembered the photos he’d taken of them in the past years. He remembered staring at some of the prints, seeing the way John looked at Paul. You didn’t look at your friend that way, not even at your best friend. There was so much adoration in the way John looked at his brother, so much.....love? It had made him feel rather uneasy. And on some other photos Paul looked at John with that same kind of look in his eyes. Mike had chosen not to share those photos with anybody, feeling that people might read more into them then there actually was. But maybe there actually was more to them after all?

His dad had put on his pyjamas, had crawled into the king sized bed and didn’t seem to notice this wasn’t _really_ John’s room. Better not to alarm him then, he had been told enough upsetting details for one day. But to Mike it suddenly had become very clear why his brother, the world’s most eligible bachelor, didn’t have a girlfriend yet. He had a boyfriend. Today had been a real eye-opener. And he didn’t know how he felt about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Mike has come to realize his brother's in a relationship with John. How does that make him feel? And will he tell his father?


	79. RAIN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> John and Paul return to Kenwood to write songs for their next album. But then there's another upsetting story in the newspaper......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Jim and Mike stayed at Cavendish for a couple of days. They talked a lot about what had happened to Paul, John often sitting next to Paul, giving him reassuring squeezes. And more and more Mike became convinced John and his brother were in a relationship. And it made sense to him. They had always been so freakishly close, right from the start really. But somehow Mike never imagined it might be more than intense friendship. They wrote those amazing songs together and being able to do that required a close friendship. And with their busy schedules of touring, recording and writing songs, it was only natural neither of them had time for a girlfriend at this time in their lives.

But now with all the little touches, all the stolen glances, the terms of endearment, the extreme closeness: suddenly it was all so obvious, that he didn’t understand nobody had ever noticed! He wondered if his dad had noticed? He didn’t think so. How would dad react if he found out his son was queer? How would he feel about that? How did he feel about that _himself,_ come to think of it. His handsome, talented, successful brother, a queer? In a relationship with John Lennon. What if the world found out about them? It probably would mean the end of their career. Hell, they might even end up in jail!

And even though he was not really sure yet how he felt about all this, he knew he’d never want to see his brother go to jail. Especially not for loving the wrong person. But was it the wrong person? Somehow it seemed so natural for the two of them to be together. Somehow they seemed made for each other, they complemented each other so perfectly. In every way.

Mike decided not to address this topic with Paul. First he wanted to sort out his own feelings about this sudden revelation. And with this Maxwell Edison business going on, things were already difficult enough for Paul, so having to deal with Mike finding out about _this_ secret as well, would be too much for his brother. But he was worried. If _he_ could see that John and Paul were a pair, wouldn’t others see it too? And wouldn’t that put them in danger? So when Jim and Mike said their goodbyes before returning to Liverpool, he hugged Paul close and whispered in his ear: “Take care of yourself, Paul, and make sure you and John act carefully in public,” leaving Paul standing at the door feeling bewildered about his brother’s departing words.

***

They decided to return to Kenwood, away from busy London and the fans in front of the gate, who made it almost impossible for them to go out for a walk. Yes, there were fans outside Kenwood’s gates as well, but they had a rather large garden inside the walls where they could enjoy the crisp and bright February air. And although the events of the last couple of days (finding out Mr. Maxwell had abused another boy as well, and telling his dad and Mike about the abuse) had left Paul slightly shaken, he soon found his feet again and with ideas for songs practically overflowing his mind, writing songs came easy to them. Which was a good thing of course, since they were supposed to start recording at the start of April.

Dad had told him that auntie Milly, although loving her nephew songs, especially “Yesterday”, had wondered about the subject of their songs. “All their songs are about love. Now, love is a good thing of course, certainly worth singing about, but you do wonder if they’re capable of writing about something else. I’d like to hear a song about something completely different for a change.” Jim had spoken the words his sister had said, miming the sound of her voice, her facial expressions and hand movements (Paul wondered if he had inherited those from her), and Paul had doubled up in laughter. This was so his auntie Milly! You just _had_ to love her.

But her words had stirred something inside of him. _Was_ he capable of writing about something else? Or was love the only subject that made its way into his songs? He decided to give it a try and when he showed John what he had come up with, a song about a bloke who wanted to write a book, John looked at him pensively. “Do you really want to write a book, Princess? You can do so, if you want to, you know. I wrote one after all, so I won’t hold you back if you decide to write one yourself.” “Nah, I don’t have any ambitions to write some paperback, Johnny. It’s just a story I’ve made up.” “You see! You’re very good at writing stories, baby. You should give it a try! And by the way, that would be the perfect title for the song: “Paperback Writer”.

Of course after a couple of beautiful days that seemed to indicate Spring was on its way, the weather turned wet and grey again, as British weather usually was prone to do, certainly in the month of February. John had been staring out of the windows, his mood resembling the weather. Why was there always so much rain in the UK? It didn’t exactly have a good effect on one’s state of mind, all that rain. But then again, if you let the rain affect your state of mind, living in Britain, you’d be down most of the time. Maybe there was a bright side to rain? Well it made sure plants and flowers grew, and that Britain was covered in vast forests and green meadows, didn’t it? That was a good thing. So rain might be a good thing after all. Maybe he should write a song about it.

Paul loved the song, that he simply titled “Rain” and told him he had a great idea for a bass line for it. The boy was always so filled with ideas, it never ceased to amaze John how Paul seemed to hear the exact way a song should sound in his head, whereas he had to try endlessly to come up with some kind of arrangement and often didn’t succeed. He didn’t really worry about it though, knowing that Paul always came up with the best ideas to take John’s songs to a higher level.

After a lazy afternoon smoking joints in their sunroom, lying on the chaises-longues, watching the rain pouring down outside, but not minding it because the pot seemed to make everything better, Paul blurted out he was so happy he had discovered pot, that he wanted to write a song about it. John chuckled. “I doubt they’ll let us record a song about that, Paulie dear. And EMI certainly won’t let us release it if we _do_ record it. They’ll have a heart attack if they hear us singing about the joys of pot-smoking, bunny.” “Oh, they will let us record it, you know. I’ll just disguise the real meaning of the words, so they won’t notice what the song’s about. I’m sure I’ll get away with it.” So then Paul wrote “Got to get you into my life” and only he and John knew what those words meant. Another secret they shared.

One thing John found very annoying about Paul sometimes, was the fact that his lover seemed to have such endless energy. He really was a busy bunny, who liked to get up early (well, not _that_ early actually, but a hell of a lot earlier than John) and who loved working. “Writing a song isn’t “work” Johnny, it’s fun! I always have so many ideas in my head that ask to get out, ask to get developed into a song, it’s maddening sometimes. I _need_ to get them out, and I love to do that together with you. So get up, get out of bed, you git! You’d think something is wrong with you, the amount of time you spend sleeping.”

John moaned. “Paul, it’s the middle of the night!” “No, it isn’t, Johnny, the sun is up, the sky is blue, it’s beautiful, and so are you.” He kissed John’s nose. “Flattering will get you nowhere, son. I’ll try to remember that line though, might come in useful in a song one day.” “Come on John, I want to write with you!” “Maybe later, bunny. For now, just leave me where I am, alright. Nothing’s wrong with me, I’m only sleeping.” Of course he ended up writing a song about that as well.

***

So they had a very productive time, the ideas for new songs coming to them from all sides and in all forms and life felt right again, the anxiety stirred up by the article about Mr. Maxwell forgotten. That is, until Paul was reading the newspaper one morning and his eye caught sight of the headline on page four.

> **LIVERPUDLIAN CLEARED OF SEXUAL ABUSE ACCUSATION**  
>  **Parents say their son lied about sexual abuse accusations  
>  ** _Maxwell E., the 44-year old resident of Allerton, Liverpool,  
>  who had been taken in for questioning by the Merseyside  
>  police a few weeks ago, after a 22-year old man had come  
>  forward accusing him of sexually abusing him when he was  
>  a child, has been cleared of the alleged accusations.“We  
>  have found no evidence to prove the accusations against  
>  Mr. E. are true” the police declared in a statement issued  
>  yesterday.”After questioning the parents of Tony Anderson,  
>  the man who has made the accusations against Mr. E, we  
>  have learnt that Mr. Anderson has been suffering from  
>  mental problems for some time, and has a history of telling  
>  lies to get attention. Mr. And Mrs. Anderson further declared  
>  that Mr. E.’s behaviour has always been totally exemplary.  
>  Since there’s no physical evidence nor any witnesses to  
>  confirm the accusations made by Mr. Anderson jr., the police  
>  has decided to drop all charges against Mr. Maxwell E.”  
>  the spokesman for the Merseyside police stated. Neither  
>  Mr. Maxwell E. nor Mr. Anderson were available for comment._

Paul read the article again and sighed deeply. So Mr. Maxwell wasn’t going to be prosecuted after all. He had so hoped he would go to jail. But the police didn’t believe that young man, Tony Anderson, so they were not going to charge that bastard. But what bothered Paul even more than the fact Mr. Maxwell walked free, was that Tony Anderson’s parents called their son a liar. That young man had had the courage to go to the police, something Paul never dared to do, and nobody believed him, not even his own parents. Instead he was labelled a liar in front of the entire world.

And Tony Anderson most certainly _was_ a victim of sexual abuse, a victim of Mr. Maxwell, just like he was, Paul was absolutely certain about that. But nobody believed that poor young man. He must feel so lonely. At least _he_ had people around him that believed him: his dad and Mike, Dusty and Steve and John of course. He felt so sorry for Tony Anderson.

***

John was furious. Absolutely outraged. How could the police not believe Tony Anderson? Why would a man go to the police to accuse somebody of rape, if it wasn’t true? Why put yourself in the spotlight by telling something that you probably felt so ashamed about, if it didn’t happen for real? And now that pervert walked free. He had so hoped the man would be put away for years. Be punished for what he had done to Tony Anderson, but at the same time also for what he had done to Paul. That knowing his rapist would spend years behind bars would give his lover some peace of mind.

John was also worried. Paul seemed.......detached? Resigned? He had expected him to be upset, expected him to break down and cry, but he seemed cool and aloof. And somehow that worried him a lot more than if he had been crying. He knew how to comfort a crying Paul. But how to handle a Paul that seemed so indifferent? While John knew he was probably completely shaken up inside by this development?

Paul had asked him to let him be for a while. He needed a bit of time to think things over, he had said, and he needed some time alone to do so. He had left the house, even though the rain was falling down, to stand on the side of the swimming pool. John never liked it when Paul stood on a waterfront when he was upset, the memories of his suicide attempts still very vivid, so he kept a close eye on him through the windows.

Jim had called, and John just about managed to pick up the phone without losing sight of Paul. Jim had also read about Mr. Maxwell being acquitted and wanted to know how Paul was doing and should he perhaps come over again? Of course Jim shared John’s anger about that bastard going free, but John had reassured him Paul seemed to be alright, that he didn’t need to worry about his son, that he would most certainly keep a close eye on him, and, no, he didn’t need to come over to Kenwood.

Paul was still standing on the side of the pool, wearing a mac in the pouring rain, seemingly staring at nothing at all. He’d been standing there for at least an hour now. He’d better call him in before he caught pneumonia.

He sighed deeply when the phone rang again. This time it was Steve, wanting to know how they were doing after all the attention for Mr. Maxwell in the papers. John and Paul hadn’t seen Dusty and Steve for some time, and hearing Steve’s voice made John feel a bit guilty for not being in touch with the two men lately. After all, Dusty and Steve had played such an important role in their lives.

John explained that Paul had finally told his dad about the sexual abuse, all the while keeping a firm eye on Paul, who was still standing motionless in the rain outside, and Steve agreed with John that it would do Paul a lot of good having shared his secret with his father. “I’m so glad his dad believes Paul’s story. He would have been heartbroken if he had called him a liar, like the parents of that other young man did. Paul’s so attached to his dad, his opinion and his love means so much to him. It must have shocked Jim very much, finding out what has happened to his son, and I suppose he feels guilty for not seeing what was going on, just like Dusty did. But knowing Paul he reassured his dad it wasn’t his fault. There’s only one person in the world that was at fault, that Maxwell bastard of course. It’s such a shame they’re not prosecuting him.”

“But you know what really bothers me as well, John? The fact that Maxwell has sexually abused another boy, makes you wonder how many other victims there are. It chills me to the bones to think he might still be abusing young boys.” They hung up, with John telling Steve to say hello to Dusty and promising they’d come over to see them anytime soon, and Steve telling him to give their love to Paul. “And make sure to keep an eye on our kid, John.”

John sighed again. Staring out of the window at his desolate looking, soaking wet lover for a while, he decided, with a heavy heart, it was really time to call Paul inside now. He’d had enough time to think things over and get himself together. Couldn’t have him catching a cold. But as he walked to the door to do so, he realized he would have to look into Paul’s eyes and he would see the pain there. Because no matter how much Paul tried to be strong, his eyes would always give his feelings away. And John hated to see pain in those beautiful kaleidoscope eyes.

So it was with a heavy heart he opened the door to call Paul in. It crossed his mind that maybe he was wrong about rain after all. Maybe rain didn’t have a bright side at all, and it _did_ heavily affect your state of mind. He decided he hated rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How will Paul deal with the knowledge Maxwell Edison is not going to be prosecuted? You'll find out in the next chapter.


	80. NEW ACQUAINTANCES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> Paul's reaction to the news of Mr. Maxwell not being prosecuted, puzzles John. And Paul meets new acquaintances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“Do you think it’s possible to find out where Tony Anderson lives?” They were eating a simple meal consisting of scrambled eggs and beans on toast, neither of them feeling up to prepare anything that needed more time in the kitchen. “Tony Anderson? You mean that guy who accused Maxwell? Why would you want to know where he lives, baby?”

“I want to meet him.” John’s fork stopped midair on his way to his mouth as he looked at Paul, puzzled. “Why on earth would you want that, love?” Paul, who had been shoving his eggs across his plate instead of eating them, put his fork down and sighed. His hand went up to his mouth and he started biting the nail of his middle finger. John put his own fork down and gently pulled Paul’s hand away. “Don’t do that, love” he spoke in a soft, friendly voice. “You’ve promised me you’d try to stop doing that, remember?”

Paul gave him a nervous, apologizing smile. “Sorry, it just happens. Can’t seem to stop myself.” John brought Paul’s hand to his mouth and pressed a tender kiss on it. “Now tell me. Why do you want to meet that man? I’m not so sure if that’s a good idea. It might upset you, and I don’t like seeing you upset, darling.”

“The whole world, including his own parents, think he’s a liar. I want him to know that there’s someone who _does_ believe him. That _I know_ he’s telling the truth. I want to tell him how courageous he’s been, going to the police and how gruesome it is that they didn’t believe him. He must feel so incredible alone right now. I just want to tell him he’s _not_ alone. Offer him my support. I just want to _do_ something to help him.”

John nodded slowly. He could understand Paul’s motives. But it still worried him. Paul was not in a good place right now, he knew that, even though Paul did his very best to hide that. Wouldn’t meeting that Anderson guy, wouldn’t being confronted with another victim of sexual abuse, send Paul into a downwards spiral and maybe trigger another suicide attempt? On the other hand, he’s been told that sometimes it helped to talk to someone who shared the same experience. “I suppose we could ask Brian if he can find out.”

***

Of course Brian managed to find Tony Anderson’s address in Oxford. He wondered about the reasons Paul wanted to contact that man, when John had called him with the request, but John had bluntly told him it was none of his business.

So two days later, Paul found himself standing in front of a door in the dorms of Magdalen College, after driving to Oxford alone, wearing his usual disguise that John always called his “teacher-outfit”. John had wanted to come along, but Paul told him he wanted to go by himself. “I know what you’re worrying about, Johnny, but there’s no need to worry about me, love, I won’t do anything stupid.”

He knocked on the door and after a few seconds it was opened by a tall, slim, dark haired man, sporting a goatee, with lots of pimples, and dark rimmed glasses, which stood on the tip of his nose. The young man shoved them up his nose and asked with questioning, grey eyes: “Yes?” “Mr. Anderson? Tony Anderson?” “Who’s asking?” Paul hesitated. He saw some other students standing together, talking, a couple of doors away. He didn’t want to get recognized. “Mind if I come in?” “Not before I know who you are and want you want from me.” He sounded hostile. Paul could understand that. “I eh……I want to talk about Maxwell Edison…..” Tony’s eyes widened for a second behind the rimmed glasses and then his face turned grim. “Go away, I’ve got nothing to say.” He tried to close the door, but Paul prevented him from doing so. “Please, I really want to talk to you.” “As I’ve already said, I’m not interested. Now please leave.” “I believe you.” “What?” “I want to tell you that I believe you. About what you’ve said about Maxwell Edison. I know you’re telling the truth.”

Tony stared at him, shock written all over his face, and then, after a few seconds of complete silence, he nodded. “Come in.” Paul entered a typical student’s room, messy, books everywhere, clothes piled up on one of the chairs, empty packages of digestive cookies on the floor, as well as a multitude of empty cigarette packages. Tony quickly removed the clothes from the chair, put them on the bed and gestured to Paul to sit down.

“Who are you?” Paul bit his bottom lip. Was he going to reveal his identity? Could he trust this guy? He decided to go ahead with it. He took off his glasses and slowly removed his fake moustache. “My name is Paul. Paul McCartney.” He saw Tony’s eyes grow wide as he obviously recognized him. “Fuck! Paul McCartney! The Beatle! I’ve got a Beatle in my room! That’s a damn good disguise, I didn’t recognize you at all! But….. what on earth are you doing here?”

“Like I’ve said, I came to tell you that I believe you, about the accusations you’ve made against Maxwell Edison.” Tony looked confused. “You believe me? Well, you must be the only person on the face of this planet who does. And you’ve come all this way to tell me so? Why?” “That’s exactly why. I don’t want you to think nobody believes you. I want you to know you’re not completely alone.”

A frown appeared between Tony’s eyes as he slowly shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why would you want me to know that? And what makes you believe I’m telling the truth about Maxwell Edison?” “Because he’s done it to me as well.”

***

John had wanted to come with Paul, but his partner had told him he wanted to go alone, telling him not to worry about him. But of course John was worried. A lot. He had almost insisted he’d come along, but he felt Paul needed to do this on his own, so he had resigned himself to Paul’s decision. “Be careful, bunny, drive safely and please don’t come home too late.” “Yes, mum, I’ll take care of myself.” Paul had smiled and kissed John’s cheek, causing John to chuckle “You silly git.” Paul pressed a tender kiss to his lips.“See you later, Johnny, love you too.”

“Get out of here, you, before I’ll throw you over my shoulder and take you to my cave to fuck you senseless!” Paul laughed out loud. “Throw me over your shoulder? I’d like to see you try!” He ran out of the door before John could grab him. Before climbing into his car, he heard John calling after him. “Paul!” He turned around to see John standing in the doorway. “I love you!” He smiled, gave a short wave, climbed in the car and drove off, not looking back, afraid he might lose his nerve to go to Oxford if he did.

John watched Paul drive off and sighed. What was he going to do all day without Paul here to keep him company? Somehow it always felt like he was missing a limb if Paul wasn’t with him. He closed the door and walked back to the kitchen. Better start off by making himself a cup of tea. He put the kettle on and from the corner of his eye he saw the newspaper lying on the table, opened at the adverts page. And then it struck him. The advert!

John always browsed through the adverts, looking for funny ones that made him laugh or intrigued him. Sometimes the texts were so cryptically, you’d wonder what they meant. It always triggered his imagination. This morning his eye had caught a particular advert and he immediately thought that it would make a nice present for Paul. But how to get it without Paul noticing? He really liked to surprise his lover after all.

And now Paul was gone, probably all day. What if he’d call their driver, Alf, and ask him to drive him to the address mentioned in the advert? Then he would be able to surprise Paul when he came home later. Decision made, he dialled Alf’s number. “Alf? This is John. Can you come over? I need you to drive me somewhere. I need to go to a Mrs. Ann Davis in High Wycombe.”

***

“He’s done it to you as well? What do you mean by that?” Tony looked at him with questioning eyes. Paul’s mouth felt dry. Was he really going to tell? Was he really going to tell a complete stranger that he was a victim of sexual abuse? “Could I......could you.....I would like to have a glass of water, please?” He nodded at the water jug standing on the desk. He hated the way his voice suddenly sounded so weak and unsure. “Sure, of course, how very impolite of me not to offer you something to drink! I can get you something else, if you like.” “Oh no, don’t bother, a glass of water will do just fine.”

He took a sip and sighed. He bit his bottom lip and started talking. “After my mum died, my dad had to work late sometimes to earn a bit of extra money, since we could barely make ends meet without mum’s income. My dad didn’t want me and my younger brother to be alone at night, but he couldn’t afford a babysitter. And then one day a man that lived further down the street offered to help out. He would babysit us for free. His name was Maxwell. Mr. Maxwell, I always called him, since I thought Maxwell was his last name. I only recently found out it was his first name.......” He was looking down at his hands, afraid to look Tony in the eyes, and bit his bottom lip again. “I was eight years old.....”

Paul heard Tony gasp for air. He looked up to see Tony looking at him, his hand pressed to his mouth in shock. “Oh my God! He’s done it to you as well? He has......he......touched you? He has.....abused you? Did he.....did he....rape you?” Paul bit his bottom lip so hard, he tasted blood. Suddenly he felt tears well up in his eyes. Shit! He didn’t want to cry! He blinked a few times and swallowed, before he nodded and whispered: “Yes. Yes, he did. He sexually abused me for almost eight years.”

***

Alf had driven John home after his visit to High Wycombe. It had been a successful trip. He’d gotten exactly what he wanted. He had seen the advert this morning, offering something he knew Paul had wanted for a long time. Of course John had always known he wanted one, but walking from Cavendish to the studios one day, Paul had pointed this particular one out to him. “I really like that one, Johnny, I’d really like to have one of those one day.” John had asked him what it was called, and he had stored that knowledge in the back of his mind, since he had thought it might come in handy one day.

And this morning it had been there on offer, in black and white, on the adverts page. And now he had bought one. It had been difficult to choose one, since there had been several, but somehow he just knew this was the one Paul would have picked himself, if he’d had the chance. It was a bit different from the others, and Paul always chose things that were different, didn’t he? After all, he had chosen him!

He smiled as he looked at Paul’s present. The boy would be so surprised! He could hardly wait to see that happy face, to see those eyes shine with delight, that dazzling smile directed at him, and hear that sensual voice whisper “Thank you, Johnny, this is just what I always wanted.” He wanted to make his lover happy. To bring some light into his life, especially now with all this Maxwell shit going on. Paul deserved to be happy, more than anyone in the world.

Twilight was already starting to set in. He wondered how long it would take for Paul to get home. He hoped the encounter with Tony Anderson hadn’t upset him too much. Suddenly he heard the grinding of the gravel on the path that led to the house. A car was approaching. His heart jumped with joy. Paul! _His Paul was home._

***

Paul and Tony had talked for hours. The shared agony of what had happened to them in their childhood had created an instant bond between the two young men. Tony was very happy that there was at least _one_ person in the world that believed his accusations against Maxwell Edison were true. And Paul felt like a giant weight had fallen off his shoulders. Sharing his story with John had already helped him a lot, not having to carry that weight alone anymore, and telling dad and Mike had been liberating as well. So he had thought that those talks had freed him of that weight he’d been carrying ever since he was eight years old.

But apparently part of that weight had still been there. And he hadn’t realized it until he talked to Tony. Talked to somebody who _knew._ Somebody who knew what it had felt like, because he had felt it _himself._ Would the weight ever be totally gone? He didn’t know the answer to that. He just knew he felt a lot lighter after talking to Tony.

Their experiences had been very much alike, only with Tony it hadn’t started until he was eleven, whereas Paul’s agony already started at the very early age of eight. And with Tony it had only lasted two years, instead of the almost eight years Paul had to endure the sexual abuse. But two years was more than enough to leave someone severely damaged, and Paul felt Tony was a very troubled young man, the fact that nobody had believed him when he had the courage to speak up, only adding to that.

“You are so brave, going to the police. I never could have done it myself. I’ve always been so ashamed about it all. I don’t think I could deal with all the attention I would get from it, especially now I’m famous. The entire world would talk about it, everybody would have something to say about it, and I wouldn’t be able to handle that. But you had the courage to do it, and it just makes me so angry that they didn’t believe you! I had hoped he would go to jail, but now he’s walking around a free man, cleared of the accusations. It’s so frustrating! And I felt so sorry for you, especially after your parents called you a liar, I just had to come and tell you that I knew you were telling the truth. I just had to.”

“It must have been harder for you, you were much younger than me when that pervert started abusing you. And thinking of the amount of time he did it.....it just makes me shiver to my bones. And you’re right, you’d be in the centre of attention across the whole world if you’d go to the police about it. And that’s hard. Very hard, I know.”

“But at least your father believes you” Tony continued. “You’ve got some people around you that believe you and are there for you. I’ve never told anybody about it until I went to the police. And then nobody believed me. I’ve been feeling so alone. I can’t tell you how happy I am you came here to share your story with me and tell me I’m not a liar. I almost started to doubt myself, started to believe I _did_ make it all up, thinking I must be going crazy. But now I don’t feel so alone anymore, and I realize it _did_ happen, I’m not a liar, I didn’t imagine it. I feel so relieved, you have no idea!”

“Yeah, I feel much better as well” Paul said. “You know what they say: “misery loves company” and I really believe that to be true. I’m so glad I came here today. But you know, there’s something bothering me. Do you.....do you suppose he’s done it to others as well? Do you think there might be more victims like us?”

Tony remained silent for a few seconds and then nodded. “I’m positive there are other victims beside us two. He’s a paedophile, and they just don’t stop, I’m afraid, until they’re locked up. And that’s what’s really worrying me. He’s probably still abusing young boys as we speak......”

***

On his ride back from Oxford to Kenwood, Tony’s last words had been spinning around in Paul’s head. What if there actually were young boys, _children,_ suffering from sexual abuse by Maxwell Edison right now? That man had to be stopped! But how could he be stopped, if the only way to stop him was to lock him up? But to have him locked up, he had to be convicted first, and to be convicted, there had to be a trial, and for him to stand trial, meant he had to be accused first. And Tony had accused him, but the police had not believed him and had let Maxwell Edison off the hook. But maybe if somebody else stood up to accuse him? Maybe if he.......

He drove through the gates of Kenwood, stopping in front of the house. He sat silently for a moment, gathering himself together before going inside. The encounter with Tony had been a good one, but it had also stirred up a lot and had made Paul think.

He saw the lights were on inside, and suddenly realized dusk had already set in. He’d been away a long time. He hoped John hadn’t been too worried. He was so easily worried about him. Paul supposed he couldn’t blame him, with his history of breakdowns and suicide attempts. He’d better go in to reassure him everything was alright. He stepped out of the car and walked over to the front door.

“Hey baby, so glad you’re home. Missed you. Everything alright, bunny?” John greeted Paul as he held his arms out. Paul was within the safety of his arms in two steps. “Yeah, I’m fine Johnny. It’s good to be home.” John held Paul close, caressing the back of his head, kissing the dark hair. He felt Paul was distressed and his body was tensed. “That difficult, love?” Paul sighed. “Yeah it was hard. But strangely enough it felt good as well. I’m glad I went to see him, to talk to him. Good to talk about everything that happened with somebody who has been there himself. But it was hard......Just hold me for a while, okay?”

They stood there for several minutes, tightly holding on to each other, until John felt the tension leave Paul’s body. “You know, darling, I’ve got something that might cheer you up a bit. A surprise. Wanna see what it is?” Paul let go of John and looked at him surprised. “You’ve got something for me? What’s that then?” “Duh, wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it now? There, the box on the table.”

“You got me a cardboard box! Just what I always wanted!” “Stop it, you silly git! Just open it, alright?” “What’s in it then?” “Jesus, Paul, do you get the meaning of the word “surprise” at all? If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise anymore. Just open it and see for yourself!”

Paul walked over to the box standing on the table and eyed it suspiciously. Knowing John it could just as well be a joke and maybe if he opened the box a clown would suddenly jump out or something like that. Carefully he opened the lid, looked inside and......

John knew exactly what was going to happen. He knew his lover so well. His eyes started sparkling and a megawatt smile lightened up not only his face, but the entire room. And when that sensual voice spoke the words “Thank you, Johnny, this is just what I always wanted”, he chuckled. Paul raised his eyebrows. “What?” “You’re so predictable, love. I guess you like it then?”

“Like it? Love it! You remembered! Does it have a name?” He reached inside of the box. “Not yet, figured you’d wanna name it yourself.” “Boy or girl?” “Girl, so I’ve been told.” Paul smiled. This was the second new acquaintance he made this day. He raised his arms out of the box, holding a small, wriggling, furry, white and black ball. “Well, hello there, little girl. I’m Paul. Welcome to my life, Martha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there she is: Martha has entered Paul's life! And therefore also John's, who's not really a dog person......


	81. MARTHA MY DEAR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> Martha has entered their lives, and Paul couldn't be more happier. But something is bothereing him. And then he makes an important decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John was not sure it had been a good move, getting Paul a puppy. He had remembered Paul had pointed out that breed of dog on the street one day. “That’s the kind of dog I like, Johnny. An Old English Sheepdog. I’d really like to have one of those one day.” John had thought the dog was rather big and hairy. And you’d had to walk dogs, didn’t you? Even when it was cold or raining, you’d have to go out and walk the dog. Because they didn’t know how to use a litter box, like cats did. Stupid animals, really, dogs. He was much more of a cat-person anyway. But he knew Paul _loved_ dogs (actually Paul loved _all_ animals, he really was a child of nature, wasn’t he?) and he had once promised himself he would get Paul a dog. So when he had seen the advert for Old English Sheepdog puppies, he decided to get one for Paul, just to make his lover happy.

And Paul was happy. He had thanked John over and over again, showered him with kisses and then.....turned all of his attention to the puppy, which he had named Martha. “Martha? What kind of name is that for a dog?” “I don’t know, it just crossed my mind that she looks like a Martha to me?” “What does a Martha look like, then?” “I don’t know, but this little lady does. Don’t you, little one? Yes, you’re so cute! Let daddy show you around the house then. And let you meet Pyramus and Thisbe. They’re cats, but they’re alright, once you get to know them. I’m sure you’ll get along just fine. Now here’s the kitchen.......”

John looked at Paul like he came from another planet. Show a puppy the house? And “daddy”? Did he just call himself the puppy’s daddy? Paul was completely entranced by the little furry ball he carried around the house, pointing out all the rooms and the furniture, and he seemed to have totally forgotten John was there. Until....”John, did you get a dog basket as well?” “A dog basket?” “Yeah, Martha has to sleep somewhere, doesn’t she? Pyramus and Thisbe have cat baskets to sleep in, so Martha should have her own basket as well.” “Oh, I didn’t think of that” “Never mind, we can get one tomorrow, she can sleep on our bed tonight.”

So Martha slept on their bed that night, lying on the footboard. John wasn’t in favour of having an animal in the bedroom (no matter how much he loved his cats, he always chased them away from the bedroom before they went to sleep) but he went along with it since it was just for one night, and they’d be getting Martha a basket tomorrow.

But boy, did he regret his decision to let Martha in the room when he tried to get engaged in some sexual activity with Paul, and Paul stopped him. “Not in front of Martha, John! She’s just a little baby, she’ll be traumatized for life!” And when next morning they woke up to a wet bed, since Martha had peed all over the footboard, he regretted his decision even more. ”You can’t blame her, Johnny, she’s still a baby and babies need to be potty trained first. I’ll take her outside to walk her, and then you can change the bed. But you have to have a little patience, it’ll take a while for her to be house-trained.” He knew there was a reason why he preferred cats.

But when he saw Paul play with little Martha so happily, a bright smile on his face, his eyes shining with joy, he knew it had been a good move. Paul needed something to cheer him up, with all this horrible Maxwell business going on, and Martha did the trick. He supposed he’d get used to having a dog in the house.

***

They had written several more songs, and one of them had brought tears to John’s eyes. When Paul first showed him a song he called “Here, there and everywhere” and he sang the line “I need him everywhere, and if he’s beside me, I know I need never care” he was so moved, he choked up and hugged Paul closely. “I will always be here, there and everywhere for you, princess.”

They had gotten Martha a basket to sleep in, and Paul walked her something like 10 times a day (“It’ll take a few months before 3 times a day will be enough, Johnny. Children aren’t potty trained overnight either, you know.” “Cats learn much faster, baby”). John didn’t like Paul being away from him so often, but when he started to walk Martha together with Paul, he found out he rather liked their walks together. And Martha was very cute, and actually seemed to like him as well.

So life was well, and Paul seemed to be relaxed again. But every now and then John saw him stare into nothingness, a frown between those perfect eyebrows, and he didn’t seem to acknowledge John’s presence or even Martha’s calls for attention.

And one night, after some passionate love making, where John had topped Paul, and they had ridden out their orgasms in shared ecstasy, Paul, cuddled up in John’s arms, while John kept running his hands through those dark, silky locks, suddenly spoke: “I think I want to go to the police.”<

***

Paul _loved_ John’s present. Absolutely _loved_ that cute, little puppy he had named Martha. He loved his present even more because he knew John was not a dog person, yet he had gotten him a doggie anyway. Playing with Martha made him forget his sorrows for a while. Because sorrows he had. Tony’s last words kept spinning around in his head: “He’s probably still abusing young boys as we speak......”

What if that was true? What if Maxwell Edison was still abusing young boys? Young boys that were going through hell right now, just like his own life had been a hell when he was just a young boy. Young boys that were experiencing the same pain and fear he had experienced himself. With nobody to turn to, because they were too scared and too ashamed to tell anybody, carrying that terrible weight upon their young shoulders, just like he had done for so many years. He knew what that was like, knew what it could do to you.

Somebody should stop that man from hurting more children, stop him from sexually abusing more young, innocent boys. But Tony had tried and had not succeeded. So if his accusations hadn’t been able to put that bastard behind bars, then what could? Of course he knew the answer to that. _He could._ He could go to the police, report him of rape. Accuse him of sexual abuse. The police might be more inclined to believe him. Because why would somebody as famous as him, tell something that horrible, if it wasn’t true? Something that he was so ashamed about, but would make him the centre of attention of the whole world? And _his_ loved ones believed him and would stand by him, they would confirm his accusations, instead of calling him a liar, like Tony’s parents had.

If there was anybody who could stop Maxwell Edison, it was Paul himself, he realized that very well. But it would require him to tell his story to strangers, to the police, to a judge and jury, to the entire world.......Tell all the details he was so ashamed about. Would he be able to do that? Was he strong enough to do so? But he didn’t really have a choice, did he? It would be criminal not to go to the police when he could stop that man from making more victims. But it was so hard.......

***

“Go to the police? What do you want to go to the police for, bunny?” John, his eyes closed, relishing Paul’s warm, naked body against his, asked his lover. “I want to report Maxwell Edison of rape.”

John’s eyes flew open. “What? What did you just say?” “I want to go to the police and tell them what he has done to me. I want him to stand trial, I want him to be locked up. Not only because of what he has done to me, but also to prevent him from abusing other boys. It occurred to me he might still be sexually abusing boys, and the only way to stop him, is to make sure he’s locked up. And I’m the only one who can make that happen.”

John had listened to Paul attentively. Of course he knew Paul was right. Of course he couldn’t agree with Paul more. But on the other hand......”Are you really sure about that, baby? You would have to tell everything to the police, all the gruesome details, and I know how difficult that is for you. You shouldn’t go to the police if you’re not up to it, sweety. You’re not responsible for what that bastard is doing to others......” “Maybe not directly responsible, John, but indirectly.....knowing he still might be raping young boys, and not doing anything about it.......It’s my responsibility to stop him. I have to go to the police, no matter how difficult it might be. I hope you will support me in this?”

John sighed deeply and hugged the naked young man close, whispering in the dark hair: “Of course I’ll support you, baby, I’ll stand by you every step of the way. If this is what you want to do, if it’s what you feel you need to do, than you should do it. And I’ll be there for you, I’ll testify for you if you want me to, I’ll stand up for you, I’ll catch you when you feel you’re falling, when things get rough. I’ll be everything you’ll need me to be, darling. Like I’ve said, I’ll be here, there and everywhere for you.”

“So, when do you want to go to the police, then?” “As soon as possible, Johnny, before I get cold feet.” “Then we’ll call Brian first thing in the morning.” “Brian? Why should we call Brian?” “Because it’s going to attract a huge amount of media attention, love, and Brian knows how to handle that. And you should call your dad and Mike as well, before you do anything. They have to know before the press gets a hold of it. Same goes for George and Ringo. We can’t let them find out through the press, you have to tell them before we go to the police.“ “Before _we_ go to the police? _I’m_ going to the police, John, _you’re_ not.” _“We_ go to the police, baby, we are doing this _together,_ I’ll stand by you every step of the way. You’re not alone in this. You’ll _never_ be alone, I promise.”

***

Brian was shocked, horrified. He had come over to Kenwood at John’s request, and had been told Paul’s gruesome story. “Oh, my poor boy, my poor, poor boy! I’m so sorry, so sorry, how could that man have done that to you? Oh God, Paul, to think of all the pain and fear you’ve had to endure. You were just a child! You poor, poor thing. Of course I’ll help you, of course I will. But you have to be really sure, my boy, because if this comes out, and it _will_ come out of course, the eyes of the whole world will be on you. Do you think you can handle that?” “I hope I can, Brian, I hope I can. It scares me to death, but I _have_ to do this. I’ve got no choice. I _have_ to stop him from hurting more kids like me.”

“Then I’ll go to the police to make an appointment for you to come to talk to them. Have you spoken to your dad already?” “Yes, I have, I’ve talked to him this morning, just before we’ve called you. He and Mike are coming over tomorrow for moral support.” “Good, good, you’re going to need all the support you can get, so I’m glad they’ll be here for you. Shall I tell George and Richard to come over tonight, so you can tell them about it?” “I’d be grateful if you did, Brian. And maybe George Martin as well, and maybe Mal and Neil? I’d better tell them all at once and get it over with.”

***

Their housekeeper had made them a lovely meal and John and Paul had chosen their favourite Chateau Neuf du Pape to accompany the food. They all had been very surprised when Brian had told them to be at Kenwood for dinner tonight, it was rather short notice, but the food had been great and the company wonderful.

And here they all were, John, Paul, George, Ringo, Brian, George Martin, Mal and Neil, enjoying their after meal coffee and a glass of very good French cognac, when Paul started to speak. “Thank you all for coming here tonight, on such short notice. I’m afraid though, this isn’t just a nice get-together. There’s a reason why we.....why I asked you all to come over tonight. There’s something I’ve got to tell you. Something serious. And I want you all to know about it before it’ll be all over the newspapers. It’s something that has happened to me when I was a child.” Paul sighed deeply and his finger found its way to his mouth on his own accord. He started to bite his nail nervously, but John gently pulled his hand away. Paul’s eyes found John’s and the man’s reassuring smile gave him the courage to start telling his story. “It started not long after my mum died......”

***

Shock, anger, disbelieve, guilt, compassion, all kinds of emotions were fighting to get the upper hand with their guests, after Paul had finished his story. He had given them a shortened, very watered down version of what had happened, but all of them were terribly shocked anyway.

George and Neil, having known Paul since their schooldays at the Inny, while the abuse was still going on, couldn’t believe they had never noticed anything and felt very guilty about not seeing what was going on. Mal, their gentle giant of a roadie, was angry, very angry and wanted to rip that bastard, who had hurt his Paulie, to little bits (“You’ll have to stand in line, Mal” John had responded.) George Martin, whose relationship with Paul, the young musical genius, had become a very warm and close one, felt so much compassion for his protégé, he had hugged Paul close while whispering “I’m so sorry, son. I’m so sorry.”

“Brian has made me an appointment at the headquarters of the London police department tomorrow afternoon, so it will probably all be in the papers the day after. I thought I should let you all know beforehand, so it wouldn’t take you by surprise. Could you tell Maureen about it, Ritch?” “Of course I will, Paul. God, she’ll be so shocked!”

“And you’ll tell Pattie, won’t you George? And maybe aunt Louise as well?” “Yeah, I’ll tell them, mate, don’t worry. Mum will be so upset, she’s so fond of you, always has been. God, why didn’t you confide in me, Paul? We could have told my mum and dad, and they might have been able to help you. Damn, mate, I feel so guilty for not noticing anything.” “No need to feel guilty Geo, I did my very best to make sure nobody noticed, so please don’t feel guilty.”

Paul turned to Brian and George Martin. “Brian, you’ll tell Freda, Alistair Taylor and Peter Brown? They should know before the story hits the news as well, they’ve been with us for such a long time already. And George, could you tell everyone at the studio? I don’t want them to find out from the media either, but I don’t feel up to tell everybody myself.” He sighed. “It’s going to be difficult enough to tell the police tomorrow. I’m not exactly looking forward to it.”

“Is anybody coming with you to the police station?” George asked worriedly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea if you go alone.” “Don’t worry about that, Geo, I’ll accompany Paul to the police station, and Brian will come along as well” John replied. “And Jim and Mike are coming to Kenwood tomorrow for moral support, they’ll be here before Paul has to go to the police station. I hope all of you will stand by Paul as well, because he’s going to need all the support he can get.” “Of course we will, John, all of us will support Paul in every way we can. We’ll be there for you, Paul, whenever you need us, right everybody?” George Martin spoke for all of them and Paul gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks everybody. I’m so lucky to have friends like you.”

He bit his bottom lip and felt tears well up in his eyes, but he didn’t want to cry. Not now. He was sure he was going to shed a lot of tears when he had to tell all the gruesome details to the police, so better not spill them now. He blinked the tears away and managed a weak smile.

At that moment Martha suddenly came bursting into the dining room, happily barking and jumping up Paul’s leg, causing Paul’s weak smile to turn into a full-on bright Macca smile. “Well hello little girl, came to see what daddy’s up to then?” He picked her up and held her close to his heart, scratching her between her ears softly. “Let me introduce you to everyone. They’re all very important people to me. You see the tall guy with the glasses? That’s our friendly giant Mal. He may look scary, but he has a heart of gold. Helps us out with everything we want, no matter what. And the guy standing beside him? That’s Neil. Neil and I went to school together in Liverpool, we were in the same class actually. Been up to a lot of mischief together. He could have had a well paid job as an accountant, but was stupid enough to hook up with us guys.”

“And that guy with the unibrow and the ciggie? That’s George. Went to school with him as well, he was a year behind me though. Always will be a year behind me, although he doesn’t like that. We used to play our guitars on top of the bus. Pretty good guitarist he is, our George. And Brian over there is our manager, he fixes everything for us. Sometimes he fixes a bit too much for us, though, doesn’t seem to understand we sometimes need a day off, but he generally is a good guy. Got us into suits, he did. And got us a recording contract. He makes sure we can make money.”

“And the tall, elegant man with the blue eyes? That’s another George. Can be rather confusing sometimes, two Georges, but you’ll learn who’s who quickly. This one’s not a guitarist though, he’s our producer. Not sure why we need a producer, since we produce the music ourselves by playing our instruments, but he does seem to be able to bring some order in our work. Nice guy that one. And the short guy with the big nose? That’s our drummer, his name is Ringo. Strange name, I know, but he’s alright at banging at the drums. Wears a lot of rings, that one. Not sure you’d like all the noise he makes, though.”

Paul looked around the room with a bright smile. “Guys, I’d like you all to meet my dear little Martha. I’m sure you’re all happy to know there’s finally a girl in my life!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Paul will go to the police at last. But of course that won't be easy.......


	82. PRESSING CHARGES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> Paul goes to the police station. It's time to press charges against Maxwell Edison. And Jim sees something.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Next day, not long after Paul’s dad and Mike had arrived and were settled in two of the guestrooms, Brian came over to accompany John and Paul to the police station. Brian talked shortly with Jim McCartney, telling him how sorry he was about the things that happened to his son and promising him to keep an eye on Paul today. Paul, sitting on the couch, was playing with little Martha, trying to keep his mind of the things he would have to do today. “Paul? Paul, it’s time to go.” Brian touched Paul’s arm softly to get his attention. Paul looked up to his manager with such nervousness in his eyes, that Brian couldn’t help but telling him once more: “Are you sure about doing this, Paul? You don’t have to do this, if you don’t feel up to it. I can call the police station and cancel....” “No, no, Brian, no need to cancel. I’ve made up my mind. Doesn’t mean I’m not nervous about it though.”

“Here’s your coat, love.” John handed him his coat as he stood up from the couch and handed Martha over to Mike. “Don’t forget to walk her, Mikey. She’s not fully house trained yet.” “Don’t worry, Paul, I’d love to take her for a walk. She’s really cute!” “Well, I guess I’ll be on my way then.”

Before he could walk out the door, however, he was stopped by his dad. “Paul? I know this is going to be difficult, but I also know you can do this, my boy. You are so incredible strong and brave. I’m so proud of you.” He engulfed Paul in an enormous hug and whispered in his ear: “I love you, son. Good luck.” Paul felt tears well up in his eyes as he relished his father’s embrace. He told himself not to cry and blinked away the tears. “Thanks, dad.”

***

John was worried. He had woken up in the middle of the night by Paul whimpering and lashing out in the bed. A nightmare. Again. Ever since the article in the newspaper about Tony Anderson accusing Maxwell Edison, the nightmares, that had almost completely disappeared after Paul had confided in him about the abuse, had returned. And last night’s nightmare had been a particular severe one. It had taken John a lot of effort to wake Paul up and calm him down. Paul had cried in his arms, sobs shaking his body. John tried his best to sooth him, but he felt so helpless. He wished there was something he could do to help his lover, but there really wasn’t anything he _could_ do, except holding him close and whisper words of love.

And now they were entering the police station together with Brian, and he knew all too well how difficult the coming hours would be for Paul. He wished he could just whisk him away and protect him from all the emotional pain. But even though Paul looked pale and was nervously biting his nails, (John had to hold back the urge to pull Paul’s hand away from his mouth, but he reckoned he should allow Paul this expression of nerves this time), John knew the young man was determined to go through with it.

“Good afternoon. Mr. McCartney is here. He has an appointment with Police Officer Darwin.” John heard Brian announce Paul’s arrival at the reception desk. The young policewoman glanced at them, colouring and then giggling nervously. “I thought it was a joke, when I saw the name, but it really is Paul McCartney! Oh my God, I’m such a big fan!” She turned all her attention to Paul, standing behind Brian, with John next to him. “And John Lennon as well! My friends are going to be so jealous when I tell them I’ve met two Beatles! Can I have your autograph please?”

“Miss, Mr. McCartney has an appointment to see Officer Darwin. I would like you to tell him Mr. McCartney has arrived. He’s not here to sign autographs” Brian reacted annoyed.”It’s okay, Brian, no harm in signing an autograph for this lovely young lady.” Paul summoned up his cute Beatle smile and took the pen and paper the girl was offering him. “What’s your name then, love?” “Lizzy, my name is Lizzy. God, you’re even more gorgeous than on tv!” Paul scribbled down “To Lizzy, love Paul” and handed the pen and paper to John. “Give the lovely lass an autograph, Johnny.”

John couldn’t believe how Paul could suddenly turn on his PR face while he was about to do something that would possibly be one of the most difficult things in his life. He signed the piece of paper anyway and gave it back to Lizzy, saying “Could you now please get Officer Darwin? We’re here on serious business.” “Of course, of course!” She dialled a number. “Officer Darwin? Paul McCartney is here to see you.” She then turned to John and Paul again. “Thank you so much! My friends are never going to believe this!”

***

Officer Darwin was a large man, in his early fifties, with greying hair, a full moustache and friendly, grey eyes. He reached out his hand to Paul. “Mr. McCartney. I’m Officer Charles Darwin from the Special Victims Unit. I know, I know, don’t make any jokes about my name. My parents were great admirers of his ”The origin of Species”. Could have been worse, I suppose, they could have called me Beagle. And this is Officer David Benson. Nice to meet you.” Officer Benson was tall, blonde and clean shaven, in his late thirties, with thin lips that slightly reminded Paul of John’s. His bright blue eyes smiled at Paul, as he reached out his hand. “Good afternoon. It’s an honour to meet you.”

“I understand Mr. Epstein here, asked for an appointment with someone from the Special Victims Unit on your behalf, Mr. McCartney, am I right?” Paul nodded nervously. Was it too late to back out now? He bit his bottom lip. Was he able to go through with this? He gave himself a mental shake. Yes, he had to do this, for Tony Anderson, for himself, but most of all to stop that man from making any more victims. “Yes, I......there’s something I want.....I need......I have to talk about. I want to press charges. And please call me Paul. I always want to turn around and see if my dad’s standing behind me when somebody calls me Mr. McCartney.”

“Well, you better come through then Mr. Mc.......Paul. We can use that room there to talk.” “Can I join him?” John suddenly asked. “That depends. Is the thing Mr.....Paul wants to discuss something that has to do with you, Mr. Lennon?” “No......no, not directly, but he may be more comfortable if I......” “Then it’s better we talk to Paul alone first. I’ll ask Lizzy to show you to one of our interrogation rooms to wait. It might be more comfortable than waiting in the public area where all eyes are on you. Lizzy? Can you show these gentlemen to interrogation room 3 and bring them some tea? And then bring some to us as well? We’re in interrogation room 1. Come on in, Paul.”

Paul turned to John and Brian. “Will you be here when I’m done?” His voice sounded subdued and small and the desperate look in his eyes almost broke John’s heart. Oh how he wished he could take this burden off Paul’s hands. That Paul didn’t have to go through this. That he would be able to take him in his arms and tell him everything would be alright. Be he couldn’t do that. All he could do is assure him he’d be waiting for him. “Of course we’ll be here, love, of course we will. Just go in there and tell your story. And remember we all stand by you, your family, your friends, me.....” He gave Paul and encouraging smile. “You’ll be alright, love, you’re so brave. You can do this!”

***

He had no idea how long he’d been in there. It had been difficult. So, so difficult. Officers Darwin and Benson had been very kind and understanding, but it had been so hard to tell his story, especially when they asked for a more detailed account of certain events and he had to go into all the gruesome details. And although he had told himself not to cry, at one point the painful memories did get the better of him. He choked up, felt tears well up in his eyes and he simply couldn’t go on.

“It’s okay, Paul, it’s okay. Just take your time, take as long as you need.” Officer Darwin, sitting opposite to Paul on the small table, placed his hand reassuringly on Paul’s arm. “We understand how difficult this is for you, but it’s very important you give us as much details as possible, so we have plenty of reasons to pick him up for questioning. Is there anyone who can verify your story? Any witnesses?”

“No, I never told anyone, I’ve been so afraid and ashamed, I did everything I could to hide what was happening. I confided in somebody about it a few years ago, though. And I’ve told my dad a few weeks ago, when Tony Anderson’s story was in the papers. Why didn’t the police believe him? How could you not believe him? Everybody’s calling him a liar, but he was speaking the truth!” “We’re going to look into his accusations again now, I can assure you that, Paul. Can you tell me who you confided in a couple of years ago? We might want to talk to him as well.” Paul bit his bottom lip. Was it right to get John involved in all of this? But John _had_ assured him he would back up Paul’s story, had assured him he would stand by him every step of the way. “My best friend. John. John Lennon.”

And now they were on their way home again, after the police had asked John to come in tomorrow to answer some questions. John’s eyes had been full of worry when he had seen him again after leaving the interrogation room. “Alright, Paul?” he softly asked, placing his hand on Paul’s arm compassionately. Paul nodded, biting his bottom lip, his eyes searching John’s. He was anxious and upset and needed something to ground him. And that’s exactly what John’s eyes always did. Ground him when he felt adrift.

Brian made an appointment for John the next day, while John and Paul locked eyes. John sending all his love and compassion straight into Paul’s soul, and Paul drawing strength from it. “We’ll be seeing you tomorrow then, Mr. Lennon” Officer Benson told John, and Officer Darwin patted Paul’s shoulder. “You did well, son. We understand it must have taken a lot of courage for you to step forward. After we’ve talked to your friend here, we’ll bring Mr. Edison in for questioning. We’re going to make sure he will not get away with this, I promise you that. A grown man should never lay a hand on a child. I’m very sorry you had to go through all that, son. We’re probably going to have to talk to you again, I’m afraid, after we’ve questioned him. I know it’s hard, but it can’t be avoided. Now take care, Paul, and we’ll be in touch.”

***

Of course some fans had gotten hold of their visit to the police station, and a couple of them were waiting outside, together with some tabloid photographers, when John, Paul and Brian made their way to the car.

Next day they found their pictures all over the newspaper, supported by big headlines wondering what two Beatles were doing at a police station. Brian accompanied John back to London, while Paul stayed at Kenwood, with his dad, Mike and Martha to keep him company. Telling his story to the police, reliving the horrible memories, had left Paul shaken, but playing with Martha kept him occupied and his dad’s presence was soothing.

He was tired, though. Talking to the police had left him emotionally exhausted and the lack of sleep last night had only added to that. His sleep had been interrupted by several severe nightmares that not even the safety of John’s arms around him had been able to prevent from occurring.

Of course they had to come up with a good explanation for Jim and Mike why John was staying in Paul’s room, when there were so many rooms available at Kenwood. “He’s bound to have nightmares after today’s proceedings, and it might be better if there’s someone in the room with him to calm him down. And since I’ve done that in the past, I don’t mind doing that again tonight” John had told them.

John and Brian returned from London later that afternoon. “They’re bringing him in for questioning as we speak, Paul. Officer Darwin thinks your testimony and my backing you up, together with Tony’s accusations, will be enough to arrest him. Maxwell Edison is going down, love!” John had greeted Paul. “The police did say they will make a statement to the press, after they have arrested him, so it will be all over the news tomorrow, Paul. Just be prepared for that. And if the press tries to contact you, just refrain from comment and direct them to me, I will take care of them. I’ll be going back to London now, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow, alright Paul?” Brian softly squeezed Paul’s arm and then turned to John. “Take care of him, John.”

***

Paul was sitting on the terrace outside, staring in the distance, mindlessly stroking Martha who was nestled in his lap. He had told the others he wanted to be alone for a while, and although John had looked at him with worry written all over his face, he had not stopped him. He had no idea how long he had been sitting there, when John suddenly sat down next to him, offering him a blanket. “I thought you might be getting cold, sitting out here for so long.”

Paul looked up at John, and once again the look in his eyes made John’s heart ache with sorrow. He placed the blanket around Paul’s shoulders and hugged him close to his side. Paul dropped his head on John’s shoulder and suddenly his whole body was shaking with sobs that came uncontrollably. John’s hand pressed Paul’s head closer, caressing the dark hair. “It’s alright, love, it’s alright. Let it all out. Just cry, love, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m here.”

Paul held on to John with such desperation, that John felt his own eyes fill with tears. He kissed the dark hair over and over again, while he held Paul even closer. “I know it’s been hard, baby, but you’ve done so well, I’m so proud of you. That bastard’s gonna pay for what he’s done to you, bunny, he’s going to jail. He will never hurt you again.”

Paul’s sobs were slowly fading away and he raised a tear stained face to John. “What did the police ask you today? You didn’t know about it happening until years later, so what could you possibly tell them that can confirm my accusations?” “I told them you often skipped a day at school because you were ill. Told them about the bloodstains on your sheets. I also mentioned that you didn’t show up at rehearsals and didn’t come to Hamburg with me and how you later told me the reasons for that. Told them about your suicide attempts......”

Paul sniffled and nodded. “So you think they believe it? You think they’ll arrest him?” “I’m sure of it, baby. Maxwell Edison’s days of freedom are coming to an end.” John’s hands cupped Paul’s face, his thumbs tenderly caressing the boy’s cheeks. “Everything’s going to be better from now on, Princess, you’ll finally be able to breathe freely with that pervert behind bars.”

“He’s not convicted yet, Johnny, we still have a trial to go through. And I will have to testify in court, before a judge and jury. What if they don’t believe me?” John tenderly kissed Paul’s forehead. “How could anyone not believe you, darling?” “What if I can’t do it? I’d have to tell everything again, every gruesome detail, in front of so many strangers. In front of the whole world......”

“Look at me, love, look at me.” John looked deeply in Paul’s eyes, emphasizing every word. “Look at me, my love. You _will_ be able to testify in court. It will be hard, it will be immensely difficult, but you _will_ be able to do so. And you know why? _Because you’re strong._ You’re so incredibly strong. You are the strongest person I’ve ever known. And you don’t have to do this alone, baby, I will be there to support you, every step of the way.” John’s lips found Paul’s, and they kissed tenderly, completely melting together as one, forgetting everything around them. “Everything’s going to be alright, bunny. We can find our way somehow, like we always have.”

***

Jim watched his son sitting on the terrace. John was holding him close and Paul seemed to be crying. His heart ached for his boy. He still felt so guilty for not noticing what Maxwell Edison did to his son. It must have taken so much courage going to the police, it must have been so difficult. He was glad he had such good friends to support him.

John was now cupping Paul’s face. It was a strangely intimate gesture, that made him frown. What was John doing? And then they kissed. His son and John kissed. On the mouth. A kiss so filled with tenderness, it made his stomach turn. They weren’t supposed to do that, were they? Two men weren’t supposed to kiss this way.

He turned away from the window, to see Mike sitting on the couch, watching tv. One of the cats had found a cozy spot on Mike’s lap, the other one (Jim could never remember which one was Thisbe and which one Pyramus) lying on the armrest. John was probably just consoling Paul, he told himself. A bit strange, by sharing such an intimate kiss, but then again those two boys were so very close, always had been. After all, they _were_ more than friends, they were _musical partners._ And for them to create such wonderful music together, their relationship had to be a lot closer than your usual friendship. They had to have a close relationship because of their song writing.

He had noticed how utterly protective John had been of Paul during the past weeks. And how Paul had been very dependent on John. But it was only natural, wasn’t it? These were very hard times for his son, and he needed someone to lean on. And John was always there. Since they had to write songs together. That’s why they often stayed in each other’s houses all of the time. Right?

He tried to shake off the weird feeling the intimate kiss his son and John had shared had given him. It was just a consoling kiss. Because Paul was upset. That’s all there was to it. “Anything good on tv, Mike?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the police are going to arrest Maxwell Edison and Paul will get his day in court soon. Or won't he?


	83. THERE ARE MORE......

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> They start recording "Revolver". And then Paul gets some news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“Mr. Maxwell E., from Allerton, Liverpool, has been arrested after charges have been made against him, accusing him of sexual abuse of a minor, by Mr. Paul McCartney, originally from Liverpool, currently with a residency in St.John’s Wood in London. Mr. McCartney came forward after charges against Mr. E., regarding the same alleged crimes, made earlier by Mr. Tony Anderson, had been dropped because of a lack of evidence. However, with these new accusations made by Mr. McCartney, the police decided to question Mr. E. again, and have found enough cause to arrest him. He has been taken into custody and will stay there for at least two weeks, while the police will undertake further investigations towards the accusations made by both Mr. Anderson and Mr. McCartney. If needed, custody will be prolonged if our investigations require so. We will emphasize that the police takes accusations of sexual abuse very seriously, and this is a particularly delicate matter since it involves minors. If we find we have enough cause to charge him, he will be brought to court to stand trial.”

The police spokesman, having finished his statement in front of the London Police Department headquarters, in front of the assembled press, was bombarded with questions. “When did this sexual abuse take place?” “How long did the abuse last?” “Why didn’t Paul go to the police earlier?” “What was the extend of the abuse?” “Is Paul going to testify in court?” “What do they other Beatles think of this?” “Is Paul going to make a statement himself?”

Somehow the press had gotten hold of the fact this particular sexual abuse case involved a Beatle, involved that cute Paul McCartney the whole world loved so much, and they had turned up by the dozens. “We’re not giving any more comment at this moment, since the case is still under investigation. We will keep you informed of the proceedings. Thank you very much.”

***

It was out in the open now. The whole world now knew he’d been a victim of sexual abuse. They had been watching the statement made by the police on tv, John, Paul, Jim and Mike in the living room of Kenwood, and Paul felt nauseous. He had to get some fresh air. He had to be alone for a while. “I’m gonna take Martha for a walk. Come on Martha, let’s go outside, girl!” He stood up and the puppy followed him eagerly. “Want some company?” John asked, standing up as well. Paul turned to John, and once again John’s heart ached at seeing the sorrow in those kaleidoscope eyes. “I’d like to be alone for a while, if you don’t mind, just to clear my head a bit.”

John sat down again, feeling rejected. He knew Paul was upset right now, and he wanted to be by his side, supporting him and trying to cheer him up. He had promised Paul he’d stand by him every step of the way during this ordeal, after all, but Paul wasn’t letting him in. Ever since his melt down at the terrace last night, Paul had kind of retreated inside himself, fearing the statement of the police today and what the outfall of that would be.

Brian had called earlier that afternoon to tell them the police had indeed arrested Maxwell Edison and that there would be a statement made by the police later that afternoon. And did they know they were due in the studio tomorrow, to start the recording of their forthcoming album? John had argued that now was not the best time to record an album, that he and Paul had enough on their plates right now, and that the sessions had to be rescheduled, but Paul told John he had every intention to go ahead as scheduled, and assured Brian they’d be in the studio tomorrow.

“There really is no need for you and Mike to stay here any longer, dad. John and I will be recording with the guys all day long for the next couple of weeks, so we won’t be home much. We’ll probably go back to Cavendish during the time we’re recording, since it’s a lot easier being close to the studios. And working will keep me occupied and keep my mind from worrying too much, so I’ll be alright” Paul had told his dad after Brian’s phone call. “I appreciate you being here very much, but you and Mike really don’t have to stick around on my account. I’ve got John and the others around, if I need someone to lean on, and I can always call if I want to talk to you.”

“Are you sure it’s okay for us to return to Liverpool right now, John?” Jim asked worriedly after Paul took Martha outside. “He seemed awfully upset after that police statement. I really don’t mind sticking around longer, it’s not a problem at all. I guess Mike would like to go back to see Angela, but I can move to Cavendish with you both, for moral support.” “Thanks for the offer, sir, but I think we’ll be alright. Like Paul said, we’ve got a lot of recording to do, so that will keep us busy and give Paul enough distraction. Making music always makes him happy. So you and Mike can return home tomorrow, you don’t have to worry about Paul, I’ll make sure to keep an eye on him.”

***

So the next day Jim and Mike returned home to Liverpool, while John and Paul, together with Martha and the cats, moved back into Cavendish, and went straight into the studio later that afternoon.

They spend the entire month of April recording, but two weeks into the process, Paul’s world was shaken up by a call from Officer Darwin. The news was both a relieve as well as a shock. A relieve because Maxwell’s custody had been prolonged. Shocking, however, because of the reason it was prolonged: three more young men had stepped up, pressing charges of past sexual abuse against him. And on top of that, the parents of young boy accused him of sexually abusing their son as recently as four weeks ago! That brought the total of victims, including himself and Tony, to six now.

He had called Tony to tell him the news of course and the two of them had a nice chat on the phone. It felt good talking to somebody who shared such a nasty history with him.

“If that isn’t enough to put that bloody paedophile away, I don’t know what is” George reacted to the news. “He’s gonna pay for what he’s done to you, Macca, the filthy queer.” Paul exchanged a hurt look with John. Of course he was grateful for George supporting him in his case against Maxwell Edison, but the comment about a “filthy queer” hurt. Once again George showed his homophobia and it made Paul fear his friend’s reaction should he ever find out about him and John.

“Being homosexual is not exactly the same as being a paedophile, George” John reacted, trying to hide his anger. He had seen the hurt in Paul’s eyes, and it upset him. Paul had been hurt enough in his life, and he didn’t need George to add to that by hateful remarks like those. “Queers or paedophiles, it doesn’t matter, they’re all the same to me. Scumbags, all of them.”

George turned around, facing Ringo. “Don’t you agree Ritch?” John clenched his fist. He was boiling with rage and he was so ready to knock George down right now. He took a step forward, but Paul’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Don’t, John, just let it be, alright?” he heard Paul whisper in his ear. “Well, paedophiles certainly are scumbags, George, no adult should ever touch a child like that, so I hope they’ll put him away for life” Ringo replied, not agreeing with George about queers being on the same level as paedophiles, not out loud anyway. But both John and Paul couldn’t help wondering if more people shared George’s opinion on that matter.

***

At the end of April “Eleanor Rigby” was recorded. Paul had written a story about a lonely spinster and a lonely priest and together with George Martin he decided it needed strings again. A string octet this time, to be more precise. Once again, just like with “Yesterday” the band wasn’t needed to play any instruments on the song, not even Paul played on it, making it the first Beatles song none of them played on.

John wondered where Paul got his inspiration from. It seemed such a dark and heavy topic, loneliness, for a young man with such a sunny character, beloved by the entire world. But maybe Paul had felt that loneliness as a child, when he had nobody to turn to, nobody to confide in, when he was being abused, and had translated those feelings into a story of two lonely old people.

Paul gave a superb vocal rendition, and although John silently didn’t completely agree with the choice of instruments, after the “Yesterday” controversy and the fall out of that incident, he knew better than to object. If Paul heard something in his head, there was no way he could intervene with that or change the guy’s mind. And after he had added harmonies together with Paul and George, and listened back to what had been recorded, he couldn’t deny Paul’s song was another masterpiece.

***

Before working on “Eleanor Rigby”, the day had started out with working on John’s song “I’m only sleeping” a song that greatly amused Paul. He often had to shake John awake to get his lazy arse out of bed. Boy, that man could sleep! If he didn’t drag John out of bed by his hair, his lover would probably not get up until it was time for diner!

Paul was an early bird himself (that is, an early bird when it came to musicians, he most certainly didn’t like to get up before 10 am), always ready to do something productive, like writing a song. Or two. Preferably finishing them before diner. But sometimes he really needed John’s input and advice on something and the bloody man just wouldn’t get out of bed! It was so frustrating sometimes. And when he went over to the bedroom, asking if John was okay, John would often answer with “Leave me where I am, baby, I’m only sleeping.” It had amused him greatly when John first played the song to him. And recording it had been great fun, especially when John softly said “Yawn, Paul” and Paul had obliged and they had all doubled up with laughter.

So it had been a joyful and productive recording session, and the day had ended on a high note. Which was a good thing, since it hadn’t started off very well. That morning, while Paul was drinking his morning tea, eating a bowl of cornflakes and scanning the newspaper’s headlines (with John still in bed of course), Officer Darwin had called, with some news. Apparently three more men had accused Maxwell Edison of rape, making the total amount of his victims nine right now. Two of them were older than Paul and the abuse had taken place sometime before Paul’s case. It looked like that bastard had been abusing children for years!

Officer Darwin had told Paul that with all this new accusations under investigation, the case probably wouldn’t go to court until July. He reassured Paul that Maxwell Edison would stay in custody until the trial started, since the accusations against him were so severe. And although Paul was relieved he would stay in prison, the extend of Maxwell Edison’s crimes had shaken him to the core. Nine victims. _Nine!_ That meant that there were seven other boys that had gone through the same ordeal he and Tony had gone through. He wondered how a man could have hurt so many boys without anybody noticing anything.

But now it would be at least another two months before the trial started. He didn’t exactly look forward to testifying in court, but on the other hand, he’d rather get it over with as soon as possible. Now he had to dread his day in court and deal with his nervousness for months to come. The news had left him feeling upset and unsettled.<

He felt the need to talk to Tony about it, somebody who had been there himself and would understand his feelings. “Tony? It’s me, Paul.” “Oh hello, Paul, how are you? Everything alright?” “Yeah, I’m alright, I just needed to talk to you. Have the police been in touch with you lately?” “No, not since they’ve questioned me again after you pressed charges against Maxwell Edison, no. Why?” “They’ve called me with some news this morning. I’d like to talk to you about it, but not on the phone. I don’t have time today, though, I’m going to be in the studio the entire day, but maybe we can meet somewhere tomorrow? I can come over to Oxford if you like.”

***

“I forgot to tell you, Johnny, but I’m going to Oxford tomorrow. I’m meeting Tony for a drink.” John and Paul had walked from the studios to Cavendish, after finishing their recording session at 1 am.

They had drunken a finger of Scotch each, going over that day’s sessions, before they decided to go to bed. Not to go to sleep right away, of course. They had made love, and it had been slow and sensual, with John taking Paul, while looking each other in the eyes. That’s the way John preferred taking Paul. Yeah, it could be absolutely great and totally hot to take his lover from behind, after all, that arse was awesome, but looking into those kaleidoscope eyes, seeing all the colours there while he slowly fucked him, seeing the arousal there, the love, the passion, seeing those beautiful eyes cloud over as he came, that was pure bliss. Nothing could top that.

And now they were lying on their backs, lazily sharing a joint, as Paul suddenly made that announcement. “Tony? You mean Tony Anderson?” Paul chuckled. “How many Tonys, that I would want to share a drink with, do you know?” “Why?” “Why what?” “Why do you want to meet him for a drink?” “Just because. You know, just to have a chat.” “You can have a chat with me.” “I can have a chat with you any time I want, Johnny, we chat all of the time. Sometimes I’d like to have a chat with someone else.”

John frowned. He had wanted to spend the day in bed with Paul tomorrow. He wanted to spend the _entire weekend_ in bed with his gorgeous lover. But now it looked like Paul didn’t want to spend time with him at all, let alone spending that time in bed. “I was looking forward to be alone with you for two days, after all those days with the guys in the studio.” “I won’t be gone the entire day, Johnny, just for a couple of drinks and a chat in the afternoon. I’ll be back in time for diner.”

“You like him?” Paul raised his eyebrows. “Do I like him? Yeah, he’s alright I guess. Why do you ask?” “Well, you’re on the phone with him all of the time and now you’re going for a drink with him while we were supposed to spend the weekend together.” “I’m not on the phone with him all of the time, John, we’ve only spoken to each other a couple of times. And I didn’t know we had plans for the weekend.” “I always have plans for our days off, baby. I planned on making love to you for 48 hours.”

Paul giggled. “Make love to me for 48 hours? Darling, you don’t even get up until 4 pm on a day off, You know, _"Leave me where I am, Paul, I’m only sleeping”._ So by the time you get out of bed I’ll be almost back home already.”

John remained silent for some time, staring at the ceiling, blowing out smoke. “Can’t you call it off?” “Call it off? I only made the appointment this morning, John, bit stupid calling it off now. Besides, I really want to talk to him.” “Why?” Paul took the joint out of John’s hand and brought it to his mouth, turning his head to face John’s profile. “Why what?” “Why do you want to talk to him?” “Why? To talk about the case, I suppose, see what he thinks of all those men who’ve come forward. Find out how he’s keeping up, with the long wait until the trial starts.”

John’s hand reached for the joint. “You can talk to me about the case.” He turned his head to face Paul. “Why can’t you talk to me?” “Of course I can talk to you about it, John, I _do_ talk to you about it. But it’s different with Tony.” “Why?” Paul sighed. “Because he’s been there, John. He knows what it was like. Only he can really understand my feelings about it all.” “I understand......” Paul’s hand gently stroke John’s cheek.

“I know you do, Johnny, but......well, you don’t _really,_ do you? How can you completely understand what it was like if you haven’t been there yourself? I love the way you’re always there for me, always support me, help me cope, and I’m so grateful for that, don’t think for a minute I ever want to miss out on that, but, you know, sometimes talking to someone who has lived through the same pain and fear........it helps, you know.”

John bit his bottom lip, lowered his eyes and whispered “You’re......you’re not having an affair with him, are you?” Paul’s eyes almost flew off his forehead. “An affair? Johnny? Is that what this is all about? Are you jealous? Of course I’m not having an affair with him, you silly git! Nor do I _want_ to have an affair with him. Nor with _anyone else,_ for that matter. John! How many times do I have to tell you that you’re the only one for me? _I love you!_ Look at me John, look at me.”

John raised his eyes to meet Paul’s. “I love you John Lennon. _You. Only you._ When will you finally start to believe that I don’t want no other baby but you? But just because I love you all the way to the moon and back, that doesn’t mean I don’t need other people in my life, and right now I need Tony to talk to, Johnny. Not because I love him, not because I fancy him, not because I want to be with him in any way. I need to talk to him because he’s felt my pain, has lived my fear. And no matter how much I love you, and how much you mean to me, that is something we can never share together.”

“But that’s not a bad thing, love. We’re not the same person, you and me, even though it feels like that sometimes. There are things about you that I can never fully understand, because I haven’t experienced them, like growing up without a father in my life. But that’s okay, you know. Sometimes we’ll just have to accept that we are also two individuals with different backgrounds that the other one can never fully understand. But as long as we keep in mind that we love each other, that we like each other’s company, as long as we’re honest and open with each other about everything in our lives, and as long as we keep talking to each other, being two individuals is not a bad thing.”

Paul kissed John’s lips tenderly. “So there’s no reason to be jealous, Johnny boy, I promise.” And then he chuckled “Good thing we’re two individuals, you know. If we were the same person, I’d be making love with myself, instead of you. And I’d rather play with you than with myself, you know.” “You daft bugger!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nine victims already! Paul will have to wait a bit longer before the trial will start. And has he managed to ease John's jealousy?


	84. MEETING OTHERS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> Paul is called to the Prosecutor's Office. And after his visit there, John finds a way to make him relax......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Talking to Tony had done him good. They both shared the same anxious feeling of having to wait at least another two months before they were due in court. And they had wondered if there could be even more victims. They agreed to stay in touch regularly and keep each other informed on any new developments.

Halfway through their recording sessions in May, they filmed promotional films for their upcoming single Paperback Writer/Rain. “Don’t you think it’s about time you get that front tooth fixed, baby? You’ve been walking around with that chipped tooth for months now. You don’t want to be filmed like that, do you?” John had asked a few days before the filming. “Brian has been on my back about it for weeks now, telling me to convince you to get it fixed, since he doesn’t seem to get through to you about it.” Paul shrugged. “I’ll get it fixed when I feel like it, Johnny, I’m not bothered about it.”

So on the day they shot the film, Paul of course still hadn’t had his tooth fixed and he didn’t seem to mind at all. John shook his head as he saw Paul smile at the camera. Sometimes he didn’t understand that man at all. Most of the time he was so meticulous about his looks, but at other times he didn’t seem to care at all and seemed to lack any kind of vanity. Such a true Gemini, that lover of his.

Later that night, lying in their bed at Cavendish, snuggled up to each other after they had made love, rubbing their cocks together, Paul on top, until they both came almost simultaneously (after years of practice they were so attuned to each other they knew exactly what to do to please the other one, after all), John did reprimand Paul about his lack of vanity in the tooth department. “It’s such a pity, you know, your lovely smile is so deformed. And I really miss your bunny teeth, they make you so......so.....you. And it’s sharp as hell, you know. It almost ripped the skin of my cock the other day. If you don’t get it fixed, I won’t let you suck me off anymore. And I know how much you love doing that.” Paul chuckled. “And how long do you think you can go without me sucking you off then, Johnny boy? You won’t last more than three days! But I’ll get it fixed then, if that pleases you. I’ll make an appointment tomorrow.” “Good boy.”

***

Paul did get his tooth fixed three days later, much to John’s pleasure. They had a couple of days off between filming their promotional films and resuming their recording sessions, and had visited some galleries together with Robert Fraser. John didn’t particular like the man, but he had no intention to leave Paul alone with somebody who so clearly fancied his lover, especially since Paul was often so oblivious about it.

A few days before their last recording session for the album, which they had now decided on calling ‘Revolver” because they planned on a kind of revolving order of songs written by John, Paul and George, Paul got a call from the Prosecutor’s Office. The Prosecutor in charge of the case wanted to talk to Paul as well as all the other victims to talk them through everything that would happen in the next few weeks and during the coming trial. So Paul was going to meet the other victims as well. The thought made him nervous, and because of that he was rather jumpy and easily irritated.

So he wasn’t his usual happy self when they were working on their songs in the studio. He snapped at the engineers, reacted impatiently when George took too much time working on a solo, got angry when Ringo didn’t get his drumming exactly the way he wanted, argued with John over his harmonies that didn’t sound right to him, and disagreed on just about everything with George Martin. John had told them all discreetly that Paul’s behaviour was the result of severe pre-trial nerves, and advised them not to take Paul’s outbursts too seriously. “He’ll probably feel bad about it later on, but he’s not himself right now, as you’ll all understand. So don’t get offended by it, he doesn’t really mean it.”

***

Brian had arranged for Mal to drive Paul to the Prosecutor’s Office. Paul had argued that he could drive himself over, but both Brian and John insisted he’d been driven. “You’re not exactly in a good state of mind right now, which is completely understandable, and it might affect your concentration. Not a good idea to drive yourself, Paul” Brian had told him and John added “Don’t want you to crash your car and end up in hospital, baby. Better let Mal drive you. Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you? I don’t mind coming along, you know that.”

But Paul insisted on going alone. He kind of regretted that now, standing in front the Prosecutor’s Office, nerves hitting him from all sides. He really could use John’s presence right now. It always steadied him in times of inner turmoil. When the secretary opened the door for him and he entered the room, he was highly aware of all the eyes on him and it made his stomach turn. He was used being the centre of all attention wherever he went, but this was so nerve wrecking. Knowing that everybody in that room knew exactly why he was here, knew exactly what had happened to him, while he knew exactly what they had all been through.

“Mr. McCartney, do come in. Everybody is here already, we were afraid you weren’t coming. My name is Adrian Sinclair, I’m the Prosecutor who will handle your case in court. Shall I introduce you to the others?” Adrian Sinclair was a thick-set figure, in his mid-fifties, with neatly combed greying hair and friendly but determined looking grey eyes. Paul nodded and swallowed nervously. Somehow his voice didn’t seem to work right now.

“I believe you’ve already met Mr. Tony Anderson?” Paul nodded again and shook Tony’s hand. “Yes we have met.” He hated how his voice sounded so unsteady. Mr. Sinclair continued to introduce everybody to Paul, also telling him when Maxwell Edison had abused them and for how long. Paul found out none of the men in the room came anywhere near the amount of time Paul had been abused, for most of them it had been something like two years. One of them had suffered the abuse for almost five years, but another one only for two months.

He also found out some of the men had even been younger than him when the abuse took place, one of them had only been five years old at the time. There were also two minor boys present together with their parents and it pierced Paul’s heart, looking at those young boys, remembering what it was like being abused at that age. One of them had been abused up until a couple of weeks ago, right before Tony had made the first accusations. Paul hugged the young boys, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

And then Mr. Sinclair introduced him to a woman, in her late twenties, early thirties. “This is Miss Bonnie Keating. She came to us the other day. Her younger brother Frank has been abused by Maxwell Edison in his childhood.” Paul shook the lady’s hand and looked at Mr. Sinclair in shock. Another one? A tenth victim? “Why isn’t he here himself?” he asked confused.

“My brother cannot testify himself, I’m afraid. But he kept a diary. And in it he wrote about the sexual abuse. And how it affected his state of mind. How the nightmares kept him awake. How he wasn’t able to trust anybody. How he was afraid of falling in love, to give himself to somebody. How lonely he was. How ashamed he was of what had happened to him. And how eventually he didn’t see any way out of the dark pit he found himself in. How the only way he could stop the pain, was to end everything. He committed suicide three years ago.”

***

Mal had driven him home late in the afternoon. Paul had been pale and quiet when he entered the car, and Mal was worried. Mal was very committed to his task as roadie, bodyguard and all-round aid for the boys, and somehow Paul held a special place in his heart. The young man’s sunny character made it a pleasure to be around him, and he had a way of making him feel he was an important part of the team, and although he could also be very demanding, Mal would do anything for him without a single thought. And ever since he’d been told about Paul’s horrible past, he felt extra protective of him.

“Are you alright, mate? You look a bit down. Must have been difficult, I guess. Something I can do to cheer you up a bit?” Paul had been staring out of the window in silence and turned to face Mal, the friendly giant who had not only become a trustworthy, but also a very dear friend over the past couple of years. “Cheer me up? I’m not sure if there’s anything that can cheer me up right now, Mal, but thanks for asking. I think I just want to go home right now.” “Maybe you should take Martha for a walk? Get some fresh air to clear your mind. I’ll come with you if you like, to fence off the fans.”

Paul chuckled. “Fence off the fans. Nice phrase, Mall. You should try your hand at writing song lyrics! But, no, I just want to go home and feel sorry for myself for a while. Then gather myself together again and soldier on. I’ve been doing that for most of my life and I’ve gotten pretty good at it. Besides, John’s probably waiting for me, to find out how things went. He wanted to come along, you know, for moral support, but I told him it would be better for me to go on my own. But thanks for the offer, Mal, you’re a real pal.”

“Doesn’t surprise me that John wanted to come. You two are like two peas in a pod, so freakishly close you are. And he’s really protective of you about all this. Well, if somebody can cheer you up, I’m sure it’s him. And little Martha of course.” “Yeah, she’s cute isn’t she?”

***

John had been feeling restless ever since Paul left with Mal. He had wanted to come along, knowing this meeting was really going to shake his partner up. He wanted to be by his side to help him through this ordeal. But Paul had wanted to go alone. So John had been waiting impatiently for him to return. He had been reading a book for a while, but hadn’t been able to concentrate. He’d been up to the music room, trying to work on an idea he had for a song, but his mind kept wandering. How would things go at the Prosecutor’s Office? Paul had been so nervous this morning, the poor boy.

He had walked Martha for a while, leaving through the backdoor to avoid the crowd of girls in front of the house. The puppy had grown a lot already, and John wondered how much bigger she would grow. Trust Paul to want a dog the size of a horse. Well more like a sheep. But still, a very big dog.

But every time he saw Paul play so happily with her, he knew he’d made the right decision when he got her as a present for his lover. And even though John much preferred cats, he had to admit that he secretly loved Martha as well.

He had made himself a cup of tea, dived into the cookie jar, ate at least a dozen of them (they were his favourites after all, digestives with a chocolate topping) and returned to his book again, lying on the couch with Pyramus taking residence on top of his feet, Martha happily sleeping on the floor beside the couch, tired of her walk outside from before, Thisbe nowhere to be seen. Probably looking out of the window somewhere, longingly watching the birds she would love to chase.

He heard the front door open. Paul was home. He got off the couch quickly and went to meet Paul in the hallway. He immediately registered Paul’s defeated posture, recognized all the signs: it had been difficult. Their eyes met and John a felt a piercing sensation in his heart at the pain he saw in Pauls eyes. He opened his arms. “Come here, baby.”

In two steps Paul was in his arms, clinging to him desperately. John caressed the dark hair and softly swayed him back and forth. “It’s okay, love, I’m here, it’s alright now.” They stood there for several minutes, nor saying a word. Words were not needed. They both knew. They just needed to be close. Needed to feel each other. John registered how tense Paul’s body was. “Why don’t you go upstairs, baby? Take your clothes off, lie on the bed and I’ll give you a total body massage to make the tension go away, how does that sound?” Paul sighed deeply. “That sounds like something I could really use right now, Johnny.” “Then go ahead, I’ll just close up here and I’ll be up in a minute.” He softly kissed Paul’s lips and ran a finger across his cheek tenderly. ”I’ll make you feel better, bunny, I promise.”

***

John’s arms around him felt so incredibly good. Somehow he always felt safe in the man’s arms, providing him with a deep sense of security he really craved sometimes. He had gone upstairs to their bedroom, like John had told him to, undressed and waited on the bed, naked. John gave him a sweet smile when he entered the room. “God, you’re beautiful, baby.” It was said with such a sincerity, it made Paul feel a little shy and he felt himself blush under John’s appreciative gaze.

John had brought in some scented candles, placed them at several spots around the bedroom and lit them, before turning out the bedroom lights. The scent of sandalwood and cinnamon spread across the room, and the flickering lights of the flames threw dancing shadows on the walls and their bodies.

He saw John undress slowly in the flickering light, the man’s eyes never leaving Paul’s body, and then he picked up a bottle of massage oil he’d brought into the room and had put aside on the bedside table. “Lie on your belly, baby, I’ll try to massage the tension in your back and shoulders away first.” Paul obliged and turned around. He heard John sigh. “I really, really think this is my favourite sight in the entire world, you know, that gorgeous arse of yours. Nothing compares to it, nothing at all.”

Paul heard John come closer to the bed and felt him climbing on top of him, sitting on his lower back. “Just close your eyes, baby, and try to relax.” Paul did as he was told, and shivered when he felt John squeezing some oil between his shoulder blades. John’s hands started to massage his neck and shoulders. It felt divine and he imagined seeing John’s beautiful hands kneading his muscles, caressing his skin. Slowly he felt the tension leave his neck and shoulders.

John moved lower, massaging Paul’s back and sides. His strong hands were kneading his upper back and then turned to his lower back. “Your muscles are really tense, bunny. But don’t worry, I’ll get them loose, just relax and let me make you feel better” John whispered in a low sensual voice. Paul sighed and gave in to the feeling of John’s hands on his body. God it felt good! He could lie here forever being massaged by John.

***

John turned around, now sitting on Paul’s lower back, and bend forward to massage Paul’s legs. His hands toughed those delicious thighs. Man, he loved Paul’s thighs! Not to fat, not to skinny, just absolutely perfect! He made sure not to touch Paul’s arse, not matter how inviting it looked and avoided coming too close to his groin. This massage was to help Paul relax, after all, not to turn him on. But he couldn’t help being turned on himself, by the sight of that gorgeous arse and the feeling of Paul’s skin beneath his fingers.

He added another dash of oil, moved to sit from Paul’s lower back to his upper thighs, his hands finding their way to Paul’s calves. John loved the feeling of Paul’s hairy legs, those gorgeous endlessly long legs, underneath his fingertips. He moved Paul’s left leg up, bending it at the knee, and started massaging the foot. Paul had beautiful feet, high arched with long toes. Elegant. Like everything about Paul was elegant. He loved playing with those feet and often gave Paul a foot massage when they were lying on the couch at night. He heard Paul moan softly, and he smiled to himself. Paul was letting go of his tension and he felt the man relax.

“Turn around, baby, so I can massage your front” he whispered and Paul turned on his back. John’s hand touched Paul’s face, massaging his forehead, his temples, his cheeks. Paul’s half lidded eyes looked at him lazily, the long eyelashes fluttering, his plump lips slightly ajar. John bend forward and softly kissed that inviting mouth. Paul sighed contently as he moved his hands to Paul’s neck and his broad shoulders. Paul had beautiful collarbones, and John’s index finger traced them tenderly.

His hands moved to Paul’s chest, moving in circles, his fingers grazing through the dark hair, touching his nipples. Paul had very sensitive nipples and touching them always his lover moan in pleasure. And today was no exception. A deep, low, sensual moan escaped Paul’s mouth, and his eyelashes fluttered.

Another dash of oil, and John’s hands touched Paul’s taut belly, his finger tracing the line of dark hairs that went down to his groin, circling Paul’s navel. He heard Paul’s breath hitch. Once again he avoided Paul’s groin, even though he noticed Paul’s hard on. He’d come back to that lovely body part later. He moved around again to be able to massage Paul’s legs and feet. All tension had now left the delicious body beneath him.

And then he turned his attention to that dark triangle of hair and the cock that stood up so proudly from it, the head pink and moist. He grabbed his lover’s cock and started stroking it, just the way he knew Paul loved. Paul sighed deeply and released another long, low moan. John, still facing Paul’s feet, moved a bit more upwards, sitting on Paul’s chest, and bend forward to take Paul’s hard on in his mouth. He loved giving Paul a blow job, loved the feeling of the firm, yet soft flesh on his tongue, and he knew it always drove Paul crazy. Paul was now constantly panting and moaning , and John tasted the precum on his tongue. But he didn’t want his lover to come yet. He had something else in mind.

He moved of off Paul’s body, and reached for the lube on the bedside table. Paul watched him from underneath his dark eyelashes, with a lazy smile on his lips. John coated his fingers with lube and tenderly pushed Paul’s legs apart and bend them at the knees. He traced Paul’s rim with his index finger, causing another moan of pleasure from his partner. And as his finger slid inside Paul’s perfect little hole, the moan grew loader. He opened Paul up, stretching him, by pushing a second and then third finger in. He was scissoring his fingers, bending them, finally touching Paul’s prostate, and a long stretched “Oooh” escaped those lush lips.

John took his time loosening the tight, hot passage, before coating his fully erect cock in lube. He lifted Paul’s legs up, making them rest on his shoulders, and lined his cock up with the inviting little hole between those perfect arse cheeks. He started pushing in slowly but surely, his cock disappearing in the warm, beautiful body beneath him, until it was completely in. He stayed still for a couple of seconds, watching Paul’s face for any signs of discomfort or pain, but all he saw was lust and passion.

So he started moving, finding a steady rhythm, in and out, in and out, deeper, deeper, speeding up, slowing down, harder, faster. Paul panted and moaned, cried out in ecstasy every time he hit his prostate, and John himself moaned and groaned, calling Paul all kinds of names, telling him how good he felt, as he felt his climax coming closer. He saw Paul reaching for his own cock, but pushed his hand away. “Let me, bunny, let me.” He took Paul’s erection in his hand and found a rhythm matching his thrusts.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, so fuckin’ sexy, so fuckin’ hot, baby, so hot” John moaned, and those words together with another perfect hit on Paul’s prostate, kicked his lover over the edge. His sperm hit John’s belly, as he moaned out loud, and that, together with the clenching feeling around his cock, did it for John. He spilt inside of his lover.

John let go of Paul’s legs and sank his body down on Paul’s body, now completely relaxed underneath him. He was sweaty and panting, and tenderly kissed Paul’s neck. He felt Paul’s arms encircle his back, squeezing him close, and the soft, melodic voice breathed in John’s ear “Thank you, Johnny. I think I’m totally relaxed now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that certainly was a sensual way of relaxing! In the next chapter they'll resume their recording of "Revolver". But then something happens.....


	85. THE LIGHTS HAD CHANGED.......

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> Recording for "Revolver" continues. A new house is bought. And then there's a fight.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, after John had wiped them both clean, removing the cum from their bodies, both exhausted but thoroughly satisfied.

But the next morning, Paul woke up feeling sticky all over. Probably the massage oil John had used. He entangled himself from John’s body, carefully as not to wake him up, and headed for the bathroom. He could do with a shower. He casted an eye in the mirror and watched himself in horror. Whatever happened to his hair? It was sticking out in all directions! He touched it, trying to flatten it, but it felt hard and it jumped back up again.

Suddenly John’s arms encircled him from behind. He felt John’s naked front touch his naked back and saw John’s face grinning at him in the mirror. “New hairdo, Macca?” “What on earth has happened to my hair?” “Probably a mix of massage oil, lube and cum, baby, together with my fingers running through it.” “I’d better go wash my hair then, wouldn’t want to have it stay this way.” “Why not? You look adorable. I’m sure the entire male population of the world will follow your example, creating this new style.”

Paul shook his head. “Not when I tell them what went in it to create this hairstyle. Wanna shower together with me?” “That’s something you never have to ask, baby, I _always_ want to take a shower with you.” 

They stood underneath the hot water pouring down on them, as steam filled the bathroom. Standing face to face, they smiled at each other, as they started washing each other’s hair. It was something they’ve been doing for a long time now, washing each other’s hair. Massaging the shampoo in your lover’s hair was a very sensual experience and it always made them relax in the midst of all the craziness that surrounded them these days. 

“Johnny?” “Yes love?” “Tonight was really special. I was so stressed when I came back home from the Prosecutor, so extremely uptight. And that massage you gave me really made all the tension disappear. Your hands felt so heavenly, my skin was tingling all over and my muscles just relaxed, it felt so great. And the love we made........it has never been better than last night. Thank you.” Paul’s hand tenderly stroke John’s cheek. “You really know how to make me feel better. Don’t know where I’d be without you.”

John took Paul’s hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles. “The pleasure was all mine, baby. I love touching your body, to feel your naked skin underneath my hands. If you ever want another massage, just say so, I’ll be more than happy to oblige. And you’re right about the lovemaking, it was exceptionally intense last night. I felt so connected to you, physically as well as emotionally. We do make a good pair, don’t we?”

Paul hummed in agreement and wrapped his arms around his lover’s body. “We’re a perfect pair, Johnny boy, made for each other, we are.” He kissed John’s temple and hugged him close. “I love you” he whispered in John’s ear. “Love you too, baby.” They stood there for several minutes, holding each other close, relishing the hot water pouring down on them and the feeling of each other’s skin.

***

They were due in the studio late in the afternoon to finish work on “Here, There and Everywhere”. John loved the song that Paul had written for him some time ago. It was such a deep declaration of Paul’s love for him and all those words put to one of the most beautiful melodies John had ever heard. Paul’s vocal performance that day was absolutely stunning, and John felt so proud that something as beautiful as that song had been written for him. It made him quite emotional when Paul was singing it, and he had to try very hard not to show his emotions to everyone there. 

In between the recording of “Here, There and Everywhere” and another one of Paul’s songs, “Got to get you into my life”, Paul had taken a phone call from his real estate agent, the man who had purchased Kenwood and Cavendish for them. He had told Paul it would be wise to invest his money in real estate, instead of spending it on paying the Taxman. So Paul had told him to look out for something rural, in Scotland perhaps, a place far away from the prying eyes of their fans.

His agent had called him to tell him he had purchased a property in Scotland on the Kintyre peninsula, just north of the village of Campbeltown. It was called High Park Farm, and the small rather dilapidated farmhouse, with 2 bedrooms, was surrounded by almost 184 acres of land, situated on a hill top near a small loch, overlooking the Machrihanish Bay, the perfect recluse for two Beatles who wanted to escape Beatlemania. It was so isolated that it surely would give them lots of privacy. In fact the end-of-the-world remoteness would discourage any fans travelling up there. 

It sounded marvellous to Paul and he wanted to share the news with John. “John, guess what! We’ve.....I mean _I’ve_ bought a farm in Scotland!” He hoped the others hadn’t noticed his slip of the tongue. They weren’t to know they bought their house together, after all. “A farm? What on earth are we....are _you_ going to do with a farm, Paul? Breed sheep?” Paul chuckled. “Maybe. Who knows. It’s just a place to get away from all the craziness of the big city. And a good investment as well.”

“You can go to Kenwood to get away from the city” John answered. “Yeah, but everybody knows about Kenwood. There are often fans there as well. This property is so remote that nobody will find it.” “Are you sure we’ll be able to find it then?” _“You_ may not be able to find your own house, Johnny, but _I_ can read a road map, you know.” “As long as you don’t expect me to sheer sheep or something.” Paul was a bit worried about John’s constant slips of the tongue. “Well John, _if_ I decide to breed sheep, I won’t ask _you_ to come sheering them, as it’s _my_ farm. I’ll sheer them myself.” “I hope it at least has electricity” John grumbled. Paul was always going on about nature and living on farms surrounded by animals, but John was much more a city-guy. “I’m not sure it has, John. There’s no running water either.” “Paul!”

***

A few days later another recording session for “Revolver” was planned. They had to record two more songs for the album, before they were off on another tour, that would take them to Germany and the Far East, and John had told Paul he had the perfect song. They would be recording that one today, but strangely, John had not yet played it to Paul. Paul was not worried though, knowing John, the song would be perfect.

He was worried about something else, though. The Preliminary Hearing in the case against Maxwell Edison was to take place the day after tomorrow, just before they were leaving for Germany. And although Paul didn’t need to be in the Courtroom for the Hearing, it made him jittery. It meant the official start of the trial against the man that had made his young life so miserable. A trial where he was supposed to testify. Where he would have to tell his story in front of a Judge and Jury. For the whole world to hear. 

So when they entered Studio 2, Paul didn’t really feel at ease, like he usually was when starting a recording session. The studio had become his second home, and he loved it there, loved all the instruments, loved playing and singing, loved creating music. But the prospect of the trial starting soon, made him a bit unfocused and on edge.

John started to show them the song he had planned to record today, and at first Paul was too distracted by the thoughts in his head to really listen to it. He felt like his head was filled with a thick fog. But when John played it for the second time, his mind started register things. The lyrics mostly. _“I know what it’s like to be dead”_ and _“You’re making me feel like I’ve never been born”._ Paul suddenly remembered the first time he had heard those words. John had told him about an acid trip with George in the States. Peter Fonda had been there, and had said those words to John and George. John had told Paul about it _“And then he said this and then he said that....”._

His mind, still a bit foggy, came to the conclusion John had written a song about that experience. An experience he shared with George. Not with him. A twinge of jealousy shot through him. He saw John and George laugh together, heard them talking. “Remember what he said? Weird guy, but the acid trip was amazing, wasn’t it?” “One of the best ones I’ve had, but you’re right, that Fonda guy was weird. Remember he said....” 

“Are you sure you want to record this song?” he heard himself ask, like it wasn’t him talking. John raised his eyebrows and gave him a strange look. “Yeah, why not? Something wrong with it?” “I’m not sure if it’s wise to record a song about an acid trip.” George chuckled. “I hardly think people will know what’s it about, Paul.” “But I do.” “So, what’s the problem?” “It’s just......I don’t.....I feel.....”

Paul wanted to say he felt left out, but John and George would think he was jealous, and he wasn’t. Not really. Just a little bit. But he didn’t want them to know that. Or they would start teasing him again about his refusal to take LSD. And he hated that. “Never mind. Let’s just start recording.”

“Say, John, since we’ve almost finished recording this album, how about coming over to my place tomorrow and drop some acid together?” Paul’s eyes widened at George’s question. Surely John wouldn’t.....”Now that’s a brilliant idea, Geo, celebrating the completion of our album with a perfect trip! I’m all in for it. What time.....”

The fog in his head was back again and it muffled the rest of the conversation between John and George. John was going over to George tomorrow for an acid trip. To celebrate the completion of the album. Which wasn’t completed yet, since they still had to record one more song. One of Paul’s songs, because they decided on an even number of songs between them. 

He was not staying at home with him. The day before the trial started, that made him so nervous, made him feel so unsettled. He needed John to ground him, to ease his nerves. He needed.....he needed......John. He needed John with him tomorrow. But John wouldn’t be there. He was going over to George to take that fuckin’ LSD with him again!

“Earth to Macca, earth to Macca!” John’s voice parted the fog a little. “What?” “Where the hell where you? I asked if you were ready to go?” “To go? Go where?” “To start working on the song, you git, you’re a bit slow today, aren’t you? You’re acting really weird today, you know.” Paul tried to shake the fog away and concentrate on the task ahead. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready. I’ll figure out some bass line for it.” He picked up his bass. “I’m not sure if Paul gets the feeling of this song, John.” he heard George say. “After all, he’s never been on a trip before. He doesn’t know what it’s like.” “You may have a point there, Geo. How can you get the vibe of the song if you never experienced what the song is about? And since our dear Paul is to chicken to give it a go, it might be difficult to get into the song.”

Paul couldn’t believe his ears. Did John just say he wouldn’t be able to participate in this bloody song of his, just because he didn’t share a fuckin’ acid trip with him? Paul would always put his everything in a song, he didn’t need to have experienced the lyrics! And John bloody well knew that! What a load of bullshit! 

And all of a sudden he’d had enough. All the teasing, all the pressure over the last year. Making fun of him, calling him a coward. If they cared for him, they’d respect his decision not to take LSD, but they just went on and on about it. And the stupid drug seemed to make John completely indifferent to Paul’s feelings, his needs, his fears.....And now he doubted Paul’s ability to work on this song of his?

He strapped his bass off, handed it (or rather threw it) to Mal who walked by, and headed for the door with angry steps. “Where the hell are you going?” He heard John call after him. Paul stopped in his tracks and turned to face him.”Well John, since you think I won’t be able to “get into the vibe” of your bloody acid song, as you’ve so clearly pointed out, I might just as well leave, right? I’m sure George can put a bass line to it, since he so obviously _does_ get the vibe.” He turned around and left the studio, hearing John shout after him: “Don’t you dare walking out of here, McCartney!” But he didn’t turn back and kept walking.

***

He had walked home to Cavendish. Martha greeted him, eagerly jumping up to him, surprised but happy her boss had come home so early. But Martha couldn’t cheer him up. He was so angry! So upset. Why was John acting that way again? Like he didn’t even like him. Putting him down again. Pressuring him into doing something he didn’t want. They had talked about this before and John had promised him he wouldn’t do that anymore. But he went ahead and did it anyway.

And how could he go over to George tomorrow, knowing how nervous Paul was about the upcoming trial? Had he just forgotten about that? Or didn’t Paul’s feelings matter to him? He sighed deeply, poured himself a Scotch and sat down at the kitchen table, Martha settling down at his feet. He absentmindedly stroke her furry hair with one hand, staring at the glass of whisky in front of him, his head resting in his other hand. 

Perhaps he was overreacting? Perhaps he shouldn’t have walked out? Were they going to record the song without him now? Would there be a song on the album that didn’t have him on it? It felt weird. But maybe that’s what the guys had felt when he recorded “Yesterday” without them? If that was the case, he now surely could understand their feelings. Damn, he shouldn’t have walked out! He shouldn’t let them get to him like that! What the hell was the matter with him! He was always so self composed! It was the trial. He felt so anxious, so nervous about it, he just couldn’t think straight anymore.

But how could John go over to George tomorrow, leaving him alone with his anxiety? He had promised him he’d stand by him every step of the way during the trial, and now he would leave Paul to his own devices, just when he needed him. Like he didn’t care for him at all. But maybe John had just forgotten about it, and he would suddenly remember and stay home after all. Wasn’t he just overreacting again? Maybe he was just being jealous of what John and George shared. An experience that he himself had chosen not to share with John. Because it scared him. 

He sighed. “I don’t know Martha. Sometimes it’s like I can’t see anything in John’s eyes. I see nothing at all. No sign of love. Like he doesn’t need me at all. Just that damned LSD. I just don’t know what to think. I feel so confused, I simply can’t seem to think straight right now. I wish you could tell me what to do.” He emptied his glass in one gulp. “I need to clear my mind, get things straight. I think I’m going for a ride. Just take the car and drive for a while. Try to see things in perspective.” He stroke Martha’s long hair again. “Yeah, I think that’s what I’ll do.”

***

He didn’t know just how long he’d been driving. He was trying to make sense of his feelings. He was jealous of the friendship John and George had established over some stupid drug! God, how ridiculous and petty! He hated feeling jealous, but he couldn’t help it.

But John’s behaviour confused him. How could he act so insensitive? He must know he was hurting Paul with his constant teasing about his refusal to take LSD, but it didn’t stop him from putting him down again and again. And he knew how nervous Paul was about the trial. Then why did he decide to leave Paul alone? Didn’t John love him anymore? Maybe he found him boring? Maybe he just should.......

His eyes filled with tears. Maybe he should just give in and take the bloody acid? So he could share that experience with John? But shouldn’t John just respect his opinions and not hold his decisions against him? He wiped away the tears, but his vision was blurry. He approached a crossroad, but he didn’t notice that the lights had changed.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep your eyes on the road Paul!


	86. PAUL IS DEAD.....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> The aftermath of their fight in the studio. Paul needs to clear his head. And then John returns to an empty house......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John was furious. Paul had just walked out of a recording session! Because of......Because of what exactly? Because he didn’t like “She Said She Said”? Well, he didn’t always like Paul’s songs, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t participate in the recording of them. Was it because the song was about a LSD trip? Well, it was his own fault, wasn’t it, if he didn’t understand. He could have taken acid together with him. He’d asked Paul several times, but he’d always refused, saying the drug scared him. Such a coward. And now he was jealous of him and George sharing an experience he kept refusing to try?

Well, he didn’t need Paul, did he? George could play bass and he could do the harmonies together with him as well. They could record his song perfectly well without him. Walking out of him like that! The audacity! Well, he’ll tell him where to shove it tonight! He couldn’t let him think he’d get away with this sort of behaviour that easily. Behaving like some kind of Prima Donna!

After finishing the song, he told George he’d see him in the afternoon at George’s Kinfaus house, and walked the short distance from Abbey Road to Cavendish Avenue. It was 4 am already and he was greeted by Martha, jumping up and down against his leg to get attention. He stroke her furry head. “Well, at least you’re happy to see me. Was the little diva not in the mood to play with you tonight?” Thisby walked over to him, stretching her body, and circling his legs, meowing softly, as John entered the living room. No Paul. Maybe in the kitchen? But he wasn’t there either. Probably asleep already.

He took the stairs, taking two step at the time. “Paul! Paul where are you? Don’t you dare ignoring me!” The door to the master bedroom was slightly ajar and in a glance John noticed the room was empty. The music room then. He took the next stairs to the attic, and barged into the music room. “Don’t you ignore me Pau.....” The room was dark. He switched on the light, but the room was empty. Paul wasn’t there.

“Fuck! Paul! Where the hell are you?” Furiously John went downstairs again. “Don’t you ignore me! Who do you think you are, running out of a recording session! At least have the decency to face me!” But there was no answer.

Standing in the kitchen, it dawned on him that he hadn’t seen Paul’s car on the driveway as he came home. So Paul had gone out? He left the studio, _left him,_ to go out on the town? Probably with that Robert Fraser bloke. Always that Robert bloody Fraser! Who had a major crush on him, of which Paul seemed so totally oblivious. Damned Paul!

John poured himself a Scotch, noticing Paul’s empty tumbler on the kitchen table. “Well, I’ll give you a piece of my mind when you come home, you can bet on it!”He gulped down his whisky in one go and poured himself another one. He went over to the living room, switching on the television, but of course this late at night, the BBC had already stopped broadcasting, and all he had left to stare at was the test pattern. John plopped down on the couch and grumbled “So you’re out on the town, enjoying yourself with that Fraser bastard, not giving a shit about what happened in the studio, while I’m left to my own devices, with nothing more than a test pattern to keep me company. I wonder what I see in you sometimes.”

He stood up to pour himself another Scotch, when suddenly the doorbell rang. Those bloody fan girls never knew when to leave him alone! He pressed the intercom and shouted “What?” But instead of a giggling girl there was a man’s voice, asking with a hint of authority: “Mr. Lennon? Mr. John Lennon? This is the police.” And all of a sudden John’s heart skipped a beat.

***

“Police? What’s the police doing here this late at night?” “Mind if we come in, sir? There’s something we need to talk to you about.” John pressed the button to open the gate, a knot in his stomach, and then proceeded to open the front door. Two policemen approached the open door. “Mr. Lennon? My name is Officer Wilkins and this is Officer Jones. We’re from the Metropolitan Police, can we come in?” John stepped aside and gestured both men in. Suddenly his voice didn’t seem to work anymore.

“Mr. Lennon, this is Mr. McCartney’s house, isn’t it? Mr. Paul McCartney?” John could only nod. “Yes, right. I’m afraid we’ve got some bad news for you. Mr. McCartney has been in a car accident, and......” John gasped for breath, bringing his hand to his chest. Paul has had an accident. The police came to tell him Paul was dead! He could hear Officer Wilkins talking but he couldn’t make out any words. He felt he was drowning and the water muffled the man’s voice.

He knew it. The moment the voice through the intercom introduced himself as a policeman, he’d known. Something was wrong with Paul. Terribly wrong. His beautiful boy was dead. A car accident.

The policemen lead him outside and into their car. They were talking to him, but he didn’t understand a word. All those words were meaningless anyway, it didn’t matter what they said, nothing mattered anymore. Paul was dead.

He had no idea where they drove him to, until they stopped in front of a hospital. Officer Wilkins opened the car door, but he couldn’t move. His limbs didn’t seem to work anymore. He saw the man’s lips move, but he still couldn’t hear the words that were spoken to him.

He was helped out of the car, and together with both policemen he walked through a long corridor, his legs moving on autopilot. He couldn’t think, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t feel......Paul was dead. What use was it to go on himself?

They reached a door on the left side of the corridor, which Officer Wilkins opened and then gestured him in. But John was frozen. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t bear seeing the love of his life lying there. Dead. Gone. The light gone from those kaleidoscope eyes.

Somebody softly pushed him inside, and he took a few steps. There, lying on a hospital bed, was Paul. His Paul. His beautiful Paul. Completely still, his long dark eyelashes resting on deadly pale cheeks. A band aid on his forehead and some minor scratches on his cheek and nose the only evidence something had happened. If you didn’t know better, it was almost like he was only sleeping;

He felt tears running down from his eyes and slowly, very slowly approached the bed. Approached his baby. Why? Why did this have to happen? Paul was so young, so beautiful, so talented, so full of life......And now he was gone. Why?

He had reached the bed, crying, and raised his arm, wanting to touch Paul’s face. But he couldn’t. Feeling the skin of the man he loved so much, who he had shared everything with for years, feeling that warm, familiar skin gone cold......He just couldn’t. A sob escaped as he whispered Paul’s name.

It was almost like Paul’s eyelashes were fluttering, but of course he was just imagining things. Wishful thinking. But then the eyes suddenly opened and the lips he had kissed a thousand times formed a word. “Johnny?” And then everything went black.

***

“I don’t know what happened. He just collapsed. Is he alright? John? John! John are you alright?” John opened his eyes. Why was he lying on the ground? He saw faces, a policeman, a nurse. And he heard Paul’s voice. But that couldn’t be right, could it. Paul was dead. He had a car accident. “Are you alright, Mr. Lennon?” the nurse asked. “Let us help you up.” The policeman and the nurse helped him to his feet. “Johnny?” Paul. That was Paul’s voice. John looked at the hospital bed, and there, sitting up straight, looking at him with a worried frown, was Paul. Alive. Not dead.

“Paul? Paul! You’re alive! You’re alive! Oh my God, you’re alive!” He rushed over to the bed and threw his arms around Paul, holding him close in a fierce hug. “You’re alive! I thought you were dead, I thought you were gone.” John started sobbing. “I thought you were dead!” “Why would you think such a thing, Johnny? Didn’t the police tell you I was only mildly injured?” “They said you’ve been in a car accident and.....and.....I don’t know what they said. I thought you were dead!”

“Well, don’t worry, Johnny, I’m very much alive. Just some scratches and bruises. And a hell of a headache. A mild concussion, I’ve been told. So they wanted to keep me here for observation. They tell me I’ve been very lucky. I wanted to go home, but they wouldn’t let me, so I asked if they could go and get you. And then the minute you get here, you pass out, scaring the hell out of me.”

 _“I_ scared _you?_ What do you think _you’ve_ done to _me?_ Jesus, Paul, I really thought I’d lost you.” “Well, you did come close to losing me, I suppose. That truck just missed me by an inch.” “What on earth happened?” “Don’t really know. Suddenly that truck came closer, flashing his headlights and sounding his horn. It seemed to come out of nowhere, but I’ve been told I ignored a red light. I can’t recall seeing any traffic lights, but then again, I was very upset......I just turned the steering wheel and the car started spinning, and then it hit a lamppost. I bumped my head against the side window and..... well the next thing I remember is people bending over me, telling me an ambulance was on its way.”

“But now they won’t let me go home. I want to go home, Johnny.” John was sitting on the bed, holding Paul’s hands in his. Never in his life had he felt so relieved before. Except maybe that time he had thought Paul had drowned himself, only to find out a couple of days later he hadn’t. “Why don’t you let him go home?” he asked the nurse in the room. "He doens't like hospitals very mucb."

“Mr. McCartney has a mild concussion, and has to be monitored to see if his condition doesn’t get worse. He has to be awoken every two hours during the night to make sure he doesn’t lose consciousness.” “Can’t we do that at home? I can wake him up. I think he’s better off at home, doesn’t really like hospitals, do you now, Paul?” “Not really, no. If John promises to wake me up every two hours, can I go then?” The nurse looked from Paul to John and back. “I’ll have to check with the doctor first.”

***

“There’s a bruise on your cheek. Won’t be gone before we start the tour.” John’s finger traced Paul’s cheek gently. “I’ll just put some make up on it, nobody will notice.” They were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea, after being brought back home by the police at the crack of dawn. The doctor had agreed for Paul to go home and had explained to John what to do and what signs he had to look out for that everything was fine. “And what’s underneath the band aid?” John touched Paul’s forehead. “Just a cut, but my hair will cover it up. Everything will be alright. Just hope my headache will have disappeared before our first show.”

“So you didn’t notice the traffic light? That’s strange, you usually pay good attention when we’re driving.” “I was upset, I wasn’t concentrating. You know, the argument in the studio......” “Yeah, what was that all about. I’m not used to you behaving like that. Running out of the studio, not finishing a recording session......Just because you didn’t like my song?”

Paul sighed. “I don’t particularly like recording a song about an acid trip, John.” “Because you never took one yourself? Not everything we sing about comes from our own experience, and you never had a problem with that.” “It’s just.....well, you and George.....” “What about me and George?” “You do share that experience, and I guess I......I suppose I feel kind of.....left out, I think. And then you made that appointment to go over to George’s place......” “Well, you can always come along, Paul, join in the experience, you know. I’d love you to share an acid trip with me.”

“You know I don’t want to, John, so stop pushing me.” “Okay, okay. But you’ve said we should accept we have different interests and should be able to do things by ourselves. So why make such a fuss about it?” “I just hoped you’d stay home with me. Just to keep me grounded. You’ve said you would stand by me. I feel so adrift right now.” “Adrift? Why? Is something wrong?” “Not wrong, not really. It’s just.....the trial starts the day after tomorrow, and it just......I don’t know, it just makes me a bit jittery, I think.”

“Fuck! I’d completely forgotten about that! Fuck, Paul, I’m sorry! How could that have slipped my mind? No wonder you were upset! God, I’m such a bastard. But why didn’t you remind me? I wouldn’t have made that appointment with George if you had reminded me.” “I just don’t want everybody to think I’m that dependent on you. I can just about imagine the pity on their faces. I don’t want them to pity me, I don’t want them to see me as a weakling.”

“You’re not a weakling, baby, you’ve gotta be one of the strongest people I know. But don’t worry, I’ll stay with you tomorrow.” John sighed. “My God, baby, I really thought you were dead.....Please don’t ever die on me.” “I can’t promise you that John. But I can promise to at least try not to die any time soon. God, my head hurts.” John stood up from the kitchen table. “Bedtime for you, baby. You need lots of rest, so the doctor told me. You have to lie down as often as possible. You have to show me how to set the alarm though.” “Set the alarm? Why?” “I have to wake you every two hours, remember. And since I kind of skipped the entire night, I’ll probably fall asleep as well. You know me, once I’m asleep, not even an atomic bomb can wake me up.”

***

“Paul! Paul, wake up!” “Huh? What? What’s happening?” “What day is it today?” “You woke me to ask me what day it is today? Really? Couldn’t that have waited?” “Just answer me, you git!” “Well, let’s see. We were in the studio on Tuesday, so today must be Wednesday.” “And can you tell me your name?” “My name? What, have you forgotten my name?” “Damned, Paul, just answer the question!” “Well, you’ve just said it. Paul. That’s my name.” “Good, good. You can go back to sleep now.”

“Paul! Paul, wake up!” “What, what?” “What day is it today?” “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten again. It’s Wednesday. Now let me go back to sleep.” “And what’s your name?” “Paul, John, it’s Paul. Now let me go back to sleep, I’ve got a splitting headache.” “Alright, sweet dreams.”

“Paul! Paul wake up!” Paul groaned. Not again! “It’s Wednesday and my name is Paul.” That’s not what I wanted to ask.” “It isn’t?” “No, I want to know what day it was yesterday.” “Yesterday was the day we argued.” “I suppose I can approve that answer. And what’s my name?” “John Annoying Lennon.” “That’s the wrong answer.” “No it isn’t. You’re very annoying. Now let me go back to sleep!” “Sleep tight!”

“Paul! Paul, wake up!” “No, John, I’m not waking up!” “You are already awake.” “No, I’m not, I’m talking in my sleep.” “You never talk in your sleep.” “Well, now is a good time to start doing that. And today is Wednesday and yesterday was Tuesday and if you’re lucky, you’ll live to see tomorrow, which will be a Thursday.” “Why wouldn’t I live to see tomorrow?” “I might kill you first, If you wake me up one more time!” “That’s not very nice.” “I want to sleep!” “Alright then, want me to sing you a lullaby?” “No!” “No need to be so aggressive, baby. Sleep well.”

***

They were in the kitchen, dressed in their bathrobes, eating a light meal of some scrambled eggs and toast. With a cup of tea of course. “Do we have some orange juice, Johnny?” “Don’t think so, baby. The fridge is totally empty. These were the last eggs, by the way. Maybe I should call Mal, end tell him to get us some groceries.” “Unless you want to go to the grocery store yourself, that’s seems like a perfect idea to me. God my head hurts.” “I’ll get your painkillers.” Thanks, Johnny.”

Somebody was ringing the bell. Paul groaned. The sharp sound pierced his head. “Tell whoever that is, to go away, John.” John pressed the intercom button “Go away!” But whoever it was, he didn’t go away, but instead rang the bell again. But before John could tell them to go away he heard a familiar voice. “John, it’s Brian, let me in, will you.” John gave Paul an apologetic look. “It’s Brian. You want me to tell him to go away?” Paul groaned again. “No it’s alright, let him in.”

“Looks like the two of you have just gotten out of bed. Do you have any idea what time it is? It’s 4 in the afternoon!” “Yeah, that’s why we’re having a cup of tea, Brian.” “With toast and scrambled eggs? Really? Looks more like breakfast to me.” Brian eyed the plates that the two young men hadn’t finished yet, and then looked at Paul sitting at the table. “Paul! What on earth happened to you?” “Had an encounter with a lamppost last night.” “He almost got himself killed, Brian, was almost run over by a truck, so go easy on him.” “God Paul, you really have to be more careful, we need your beautiful face.” Paul shook his head, but then groaned. The movement hurt. “Where are those painkillers, Johnny?” “Painkillers coming right up.”

“What brings you here today, Brian?” Paul asked, after having swallowed the pills down with a glass of water. “George Martin told me you had an argument last night, so I came to see if everything’s alright.” “Yeah, we kissed and made up. Nothing to worry about.” John answered. “Only Paul’s got a mild concussion, so he must take it easy for a couple of days.”

Suddenly the phone rang, and John went to answer it, while Brian took a seat at the kitchen table. “You will be capable of performing, I hope, with the shows in Germany coming up?” “Don’t worry, Brian, a bit of make up and lots of painkillers will do the trick.” “And tomorrow’s the Preliminary Hearing, right? They do know when you’ll be available, so the trial dates won’t clash with our tour?” “Yeah, they know I’ll only be in Britain between 8 July and 10 August, so it should be alright.”

“That was George.” John came back to the table, sitting down with Paul and Brian. “Wondered what time I was planning on coming over. Told him I had to stay at home, watching our bass player who’d been in a car accident. He almost flipped when he heard. We should have called him, he said. “George is right, John. You should have called me as well. If something like this leaks to the press without being properly addressed, you never know what story they might make up. Before you know there’s headlines saying Paul is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was scary for a while, right? But don't worry, I'm not ready to end this story any time soon! So the next chapter will see the lads go off on yet another tour, bringing them to Hamburg again.


	87. GERMANY AND JAPAN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> They're off to Germany, and in Hamburg John wants to pay a visit to Astrid. But how will Paul feel about that? And then they visit Japan for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

The night before they left on their tour, they recorded their last song for the album. A song Paul had written the day before, the day after his accident. It had come to him like lightening, the music and the words. Thinking back on what he had felt just before he left his house and got into a car accident. How he felt he couldn’t see love in John’s eyes anymore. How he could see nothing in his eyes. And how much that had hurt him. On the last session for the album, they recorded “For No One”.

They left for Germany on Friday morning, 24 June. The Preliminary Hearing had taken place the day before, and the Judge ruled that there was enough evidence to start a trial for sexual abuse of minors against Maxwell Edison. The trial would start on 10 July, just after The Beatles had returned from their short tour, that would take them to Germany, Japan and the Philippines.

They hadn’t performed live since mid December, which was an extremely long time for them, and to their surprise they found the lack of stage practice affected their usually smooth performance. At their first show in Munich, George announced “Yesterday” as a song from “Beatles For Sale” instead of from “Help!” causing John and Paul to look at each other in disbelieve. Surely the song was from their “Help!” album, how could George get that wrong? They played an arrangement with their usual instruments for the song, because Paul absolutely refused to sing it alone on stage.

And when they closed the concert with “I’m Down”, Paul had to check with John and George about the lyrics of the opening verse before he started singing, because he simply couldn’t remember with which verse to start. But in spite of the consultation with his band mates, he managed to get all the verses wrong.

“Damn! How can I forget the words to a song I’ve written myself! I really messed up.” Paul was angry with himself. The fans paid good money to see them, and he should deliver a good show. “Doesn’t really matter, Paul” George said. “With all the screaming they do, nobody hears us anyway. I doubt anybody noticed you got every verse wrong. I had a lot of trouble to keep myself from laughing my head off, though, especially when I saw the look you gave John, when you realised you got it all wrong. Priceless, that was!”

Two days later they found themselves back in Hamburg for the first time since 1 January 1963, having arrived there by train in the early hours of the morning. God, so much had happened in those three and a half years since then! They used to eat at the Seamen’s Mission back then! They hadn’t even recorded their first album, and now they had just finished recording their fifth! They’d had a string of number ones all over the world, and the small clubs with a couple of dozens of dedicated, dancing youngsters from a few years ago had turned into huge stadiums with tens of thousands of fans, screaming their heads off. They now had the world at their feet and earned heaps of money.

Their sleeping arrangements had improved greatly as well. John and George remembered their filthy sleeping quarters behind the Bambi Kino all too well. Paul hadn’t been there that first time around of course, but Paul remembered how shocked he had been, when he had seen their room the first time he came along to Hamburg. And how George had been pleased it was so much better than the last time they were there, when Paul could only swallow in unbelief that they actually were supposed to sleep in such horrific circumstances. And Ringo’s memories of his days with Rory Storm in Hamburg weren’t much better either. Now they slept in a very posh hotel in what used to be a castle, just outside of Hamburg. Nevertheless dozens of fans had found their way to the hotel and, after a few hours of sleep, they waved to them from the balcony.

John went to visit Astrid in the afternoon. He tried to get Paul to come along with him, but Paul declined. “I never feel comfortable around Astrid, John. She knows very well that Stu and I didn’t get along very well. And even though I’m really sorry about his death, I always feel like she doesn’t think I’m honest about that. That I only pretend to be sorry, but don’t really mean it. She’ll probably wouldn’t like to see me. I’d rather stay back at the hotel, working on the song I’ve been hearing in my head for some days now.”

***

Astrid still lived in the same apartment, the one where Stu had collapsed and died. “I could not say goodbye to it, too much beautiful memories of the times Stu and I spend together here.” “Yeah, I guess I can understand that. Paul and I still rent our apartment in Liverpool, even though we’re never there anymore. But it’s the place where we first confessed our love for each other, so it’s kind of special to us. Maybe we should cancel the rent one of these days. I have to talk to Paul about it.”

John had found out a long time ago that Stu had told Astrid about him and Paul. He knew Astrid was okay with it, and that she would never tell anybody about them. He hadn’t told Paul about Astrid’s knowledge, though. He still had to be very wary around Paul about everything that had to do with Stu.

“Why didn’t Paul come with you? I would have loved to see him. And George as well.” “George wanted to get some more rest before our show tonight, but he sends you his love.” “I remember just how young he was then. A kid really.” “Yeah, well, he’s all grown up, isn’t he? A married man, he is.”

“And what about Paul?” Astrid asked. John sighed. “I tried to get him to come along, but, well. You know.....he doesn’t feel comfortable seeing you. He thinks you wouldn’t want to see him because of everything that occurred between him and Stu.” “Oh, but I’d love to see him! You know, I think he and Stu were very much alike. They were both so dedicated to their art. Stu to his painting and Paul to his music. I always thought he was the one of you most dedicated to music and the band.”

“You’re absolutely right about that, Astrid. He’s working on a song back at the hotel right now, as a matter of fact.” “And both Paul and Stu wanted your attention, wanted to be your best friend. And knowing now that you and Paul had so much more than friendship, I can understand him being a bit jealous about your relationship with Stu. Because you and Stu did share a very special friendship.”

“I know. Our friendship _was_ special. But Paul I _love._ Maybe I should have made that clear to Paul a lot earlier, that Stu wasn’t a threat to him. That Stu was to me, what George was to Paul. A friend. Best friend even. But not a lover. Maybe if I had explained that Stu would never take Paul’s place in my life, maybe he would have gotten along with Stu a lot better. I know that now. Just a pity I didn’t see that back then.”

“No need to blame yourself for that, John. You were only a kid back then, too young to understand all the vast intricacies of life. But please do tell Paul I don’t hold any grudges, and that next time he should come around as well. How is he doing, by the way? I’ve heard about the trial, about the sexual abuse. Poor boy. What he must have gone through....”

“Yeah, he’s had a pretty rough time, to put it mildly. And I’m so glad the bastard will be brought to justice. But it’s hard for Paul, you know. He’ll have to tell all the gruesome details in front of a judge and jury, for the whole world to find out. He’s so anxious about it. He tries to put on a brave face about it all, but I know. I can see it in his eyes. I can feel it in the way he’s often very restless at night. And there’s so little I can do about it. I want to help him, in every way I can, but it’s difficult to know what to do sometimes.”

“Being a victim of sexual abuse, certainly at such a young age, can be very traumatic, John. But what I’ve seen of Paul, I think he is a very strong young man. But I’m also sure that he needs your support right now. And I think just your presence will give him the support he needs. Just be there for him. Listen to him when he wants to talk. Hold him when he wants to be held. Tell him you love him when he needs to hear that. Just be there with him, whenever he wants you to be there with him. That’s what he needs from you right now, just to know you’re there for him. If you can do that, I’m sure everything will be alright.”

***

Paul wasn’t really working on a song. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t had a new tune in his head for days now, which was really odd. There usually were dozens of tunes in his head. The only thing he seemed to be able to think about for the last couple of days, was the trial. The anxiety about having to tell his story in front of strangers, occupied so much space in his mind, there simply was no room left for music.

And now John was off to see Astrid. He understood of course. Astrid was his connection to Stu. And Stu had been very important to John, he knew that, and he knew by now he had no reason to be jealous. And part of him had wanted to go and see Astrid, to find out how she was doing. It must be so hard for her, to go on living without the love of her life. But he just couldn’t. Couldn’t face seeing the resentment, she probably still held against him, in her eyes. Not when his mind was so filled with anxiety already.

He sat down at the piano in their suite. That was one of the luxury things that wealth and fame had brought them. Instead of ordinary hotel rooms, they now had suites with pianos in it. His fingers touched the ebony and ivory keys and he started playing something that he composed years ago, when he was still at school. The melody, that is. A melody he always seemed to turn to when he was feeling a bit unsettled and down. He never got around to writing proper words to it, though. He only ever had the first line: _“The long and winding road”._

***

After their show that night, John and Paul decided to go down to the Reepherbahn together, a trip down Memory Lane. Funny how you could almost forget how small the clubs they played at, actually were. “God, remember how happy we were when we went from the Indra to the Kaiser Keller, and from the Kaiser Keller to the Star Club? What a step up it was for us? Now look at it. It’s so small.”

The were standing in front of the Star Club, watching the venue with amazement, remembering how proud they had been they were allowed to play here. And now, a few years later, they had played the Shea Stadium to a staggering 54,000 fans! “Yeah, amazing how time flies and how your perception changes, isn’t it? Well, let’s go in, Johnny, see if there are acquaintances from our deep dark past still working here.”

As it turned out, Horst Fascher, the friendly giant bouncer, still worked at the Star Club, and they were delighted to see him. So many great memories they shared! Horst was amazed at the fact they still remembered him. “Natürlich, of course we remember you, Horst! Wie könnten wir dich jemals vergessen? We could never forget you! We’ve had such great times together!” Paul tried out his best German to express how happy he was to see Horst again.

They spend a lovely night at the Star Club with Horst and some other people they had met during their Hamburg days, drinking way too much. They were all such down-to-earth people, who treated them like they were still the John and Paul from some obscure band from Liverpool instead of the world famous Lennon and McCartney of the fabulous Beatles. And they both loved it. Not being admired, adored or put on a pedestal for once, but just being treated like normal human beings. It was a refreshing experience.

Back at their suite in the early hours of the morning, Paul asked John how his visit with Astrid had been. “She’s doing alright, I guess. Still misses Stu, but she’s moving on, you know. She asked why you didn’t come along as well. She would have loved seeing you.” “Really? Are you sure about that? Can’t imagine she’d like to see me, after all that happened between me and Stu.”

“She said she holds no grudges toward you, baby. She actually told me she always thought you and Stu were very much alike in a lot of ways, both so dedicated to your art, both wanting my attention. And we were all way too young to handle all the friction that it resulted in. We’d probably act a lot differently now we’re older and wiser.”

“God, I’m so relieved! I really thought she’d hate me. And she’s right, you know. I _was_ jealous of Stu’s friendship with you. And I _did_ despise him for not being committed to the band. But I also admired the way he was so dedicated to his painting, in the same way I was dedicated to music. I guess we _were_ a lot alike.” “That’s probably why I liked you both.”

They were lying in their bed, ready to go to sleep. They had to get up in a few hours to catch the plane back to London and then on to the Far East. John tenderly kissed Paul’s lips. “I _liked_ you both, but I only was _in love_ with you. I _still am_ in love with you. I _will always_ be in love with you.” Paul smiled. “You’re middle name really is “Romantic” Johnny!”

***

Their long flight to Japan took them to Alaska, where they were grounded because of bad weather. They managed to see some of Anchorage during their forced delay there, and when they left after nine hours, they decided Alaska was spectacular to see, but also spectacularly cold.

Japan came as a kind of culture shock. They were all extremely polite and bowing for them all the time, like they were royalty, and everything was arranged with extreme efficiency. They were also amazed at the extreme subservience of the Japanese women. George and Ringo concluded that if they would ever try to get their wives to act so subserviently, they’d probably ask for a divorce straight away! John and Paul realized that, being two men, they luckily would never have that kind of trouble.

On the other hand they felt like prisoners. The police had told them they were not allowed out of their hotel suite until it was time to go to the Budokan, where they would be performing and the security in the hotel was very strict.

So they were stuck in their hotel, instead of getting to see a bit of Tokyo and do some shopping. The television was all in Japanese, and even though Paul had learned to say “Sayonara”, that actually was the total extent of his knowledge of Japanese, so nor he, nor the others understood a word of the programs that were broadcasted. They did see themselves on television though, and it showed people holding up signs, like it was some kind of demonstration, like they were angry even, but of course they couldn’t read the Japanese signs either.

And if you lock up four young men in the prime of their life, with nothing to do, not even being able to watch tv, those four young men are bound to get very bored. So when the local promoter presented them with a large, empty piece of paper and some paint, they jumped at the opportunity to create a painting together.

So sitting around a table with the paper on it, a lamp set in the middle, they went to work. George had suggested they’d each paint their visions of a woman and Ringo had eagerly agreed. John and Paul had exchanged an amused look. A vision of a woman? They’d rather paint their vision of a man! But they decided to play along and soon all four of them were completely engaged in their work. They worked on it during the entire three days stay at the hotel and ended up signing their work in the middle, where the lamp had been, deciding to call their shared work of art “Images of a woman” and giving it away to be auctioned for charity.

Arriving at the Budokan for their first show, they found out what the demonstrations they’d seen on tv were all about, when Brian whispered to them that apparently a lot of Japanese were offended about them playing in what they considered “a sacred temple of martial arts”. It amazed them that it seemed to be alright to have fights there, but not pop music, while all they did was sing about love!

They were shocked, however, to hear death threats had been made against them because of their shows at the Budokan. People actually wanted them dead because they performed in a place that they did not choose themselves? It was the Japanese promoters who had suggested the place, not them! Luckily the Japanese police provided them with a lot of security: there were no less than 30,000 police officers on the route from their hotel to the Budokan!

In the end they were glad they had to stay inside their suite between shows. At least they’d be safe there. They asked for some tradesmen to be brought up to the Presidential Suite, so they could at least buy some souvenirs. John absolutely loved the kimonos and bought a whole lot of them, in all kinds of colours. He loved the feeling of silk on his skin, and what’s more, Paul looked absolutely delicious in it! He couldn’t wait to slide the silk piece of garment off those broad shoulders, letting it slide onto the floor, exposing the man’s naked body. He felt his groin stir already!

So John and Paul ended up sharing a passionate night in Tokyo, before leaving for The Philippines the next morning.......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If they had only known what would be waiting for them in The Philippines......


	88. THE PHILIPPINES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> Their stay in The Phillipines isn't all it's cracked up to be. To put it mildly......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

They were greeted by 5,000 fans at the airport of Manilla. Usually they would go to their hotel straight away from the airport, with Neil and their hand luggage, bypassing passport control, while Brian and Mall would take care of their passports and such. But in Manilla, everything was different.

There were men shouting at them in a menacing way to leave their bags and get in the car. And before they knew what was happening, they were pushed in a car, leaving Neil and their hand luggage behind.

They were driven to the Navy Headquarters, where a press conference was held. They were very worried on their way over. “What if they discover our drugs in the hand luggage?” George asked the question that was on all of their lips. “You think we’re going to be arrested?” Ringo asked, sounding frightened. “I can’t go to jail, I’ve got a son!” John and Paul looked at each other, exchanging a look full of worry. “I don’t understand what happened. Why do they treat us like that?”John’s voice sounded tense. “Do you suppose somebody tipped them off, and they know we carry drugs with us? God, I’m really worried. I hope Neil can prevent them from searching our hand luggage.” Paul was nervously biting his nails as he expressed his worries.

They hoped they would see Brian, Neil and Mal at the press conference, but they were utterly alone, for the first time since heaven knows when. Underneath the table John’s hand nervously squeezed Paul’s thigh, and Paul’s hand rested on John’s, trying to reassure him. But Paul was just as nervous. This was all very weird and troublesome. They tried to answer the questions as best as they could, but their usual wit had completely vanished. Overtaken by nerves and worries.

After the press conference they were pushed in a car again. They had no idea where they were being taken. They ended up on a yacht, where they were put in a room, guarded by a whole bunch of mean looking cops with big guns. They were completely cut off from Brian, Mal and Neil for the first time since Beatle mania started and it frightened them big time. On top of it all, it was extremely hot and humid, and they were all sweating profusely.

“I don’t feel very comfortable about all this, Paul” John whispered in Paul’s ear. “It feels like something bad is going to happen.” He had loosened his tie and removed his blazer, like all of them had, and was sitting next to Paul in the guarded room. “Yeah, it feels like we’re prisoners and we’re totally at the mercy of these men outside. God it’s hot in here! I wish I could get a shower and change in something more suitable for these temperatures.” Paul’s hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead. “I do hope our equipment is okay and they didn’t discover our drugs, but I’m getting more and more worried by the minute.”

Two hours later they were reunited with their entourage, and Neil could reassure them that their drugs had not been discovered by the authorities. They all sighed in relief. At least they wouldn’t end up in jail in a foreign country! They were also happy to find out their equipment was alright, especially Paul, who had become very attached to his Hoffner bass, often hugging it to himself in the studio. “I often wish I was you’re bass, baby, because then you could hug me in front of everybody else” John had once told Paul. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of my instrument, Johnny! I can assure you he’s not half as good in bed as you are!”

***

They had to stay at the yacht for a party held in their honour, and Brian didn’t allow them to leave until 4am, since the Philippines’ tour promoter had organized it. They were taken to their hotel, completely exhausted from the long, strange and worrisome day.

John was lying on the bed with his clothes still on. “I don’t think I’ll manage to undress myself right now, I’m too fuckin’ tired!” Paul was taking off his clothes, a worried frown between his eyebrows. “This was probably the weirdest day of my life, and we’ve had some really weird days. But I’ve got this nagging feeling the worst is yet to come. I’ve got this premonition something bad is going to happen, Johnny. It kind of frightens me.”

John watched the now completely naked Paul, standing in the middle of the room. “God, you look so delicious! I wish I could make love to you, baby, but I’m too freakin’ tired!” Paul moved over to the bed and started to undress John. “I don’t feel up to making love either, Johnny, but I would like to just cuddle a bit, to ease my nerves.” “Then come over here, bunny, I’ll hold you until you sleep. But I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. They didn’t discover our drugs, we’re reunited with Brian, Neil and Mal and our equipment is alright. We’ll just do our shows tomorrow and leave this strange country just as fast as we arrived. Everything will be alright. ” John took Paul in his arms, hugged him close and kissed the dark hair. “Let’s go to sleep baby and you’ll be right as rain tomorrow.” Paul cuddled closer and sighed. “I hope you’re right, Johnny.”

***

But the next day, all hell broke loose. The tour promoter had apparently promised Imelda Marcos, the country’s First Lady, that the Beatles would come to the presidential palace for a meeting with her at 11 am, followed by a lunch at 3 pm, only one hour before their afternoon show. That wouldn’t give them enough time to prepare for the show, and the promoter therefore hadn’t discussed it with Brian, afraid of a refusal. And since The Philippines were a dictatorship, he didn’t want to offend the president. The newspapers had written about the upcoming visit of The Beatles to Mrs. Marcos, though, full of anticipation about the event, and everybody was very excited about it. But nor The Beatles, nor Brian were aware of that.

Until two high-ranking government officials came to the hotel to take the band to the palace. Of course the boys were still asleep after their late arrival at the hotel, and Brian told them he wasn’t aware of a any formal invitation and he didn’t want the boys to be awoken. The officers left, but soon after, Brian received a call from the British ambassador, telling him that not going to the palace could be highly dangerous. The president would be very offended if they didn’t show up and that he could withdraw the band’s protection by the police. But Brian refused to comply. His boys needed their sleep and enough time to prepare for their show that afternoon.

So John, Paul, George and Ringo continued to sleep in their rooms, blissfully unaware of the disaster that was starting to develop around them. That is, until they were awoken by banging on their door, and lots of panic outside their suite. Paul stumbled out of bed first, and made his way to the door, closely followed by George, who came out of his and Ringo’s bedroom looking very disturbed. “What the hell is going on, Paul?” “No idea, I hope nothing’s wrong.”

Paul opened the door and was met with a couple of very agitated men, shouting at them that they were supposed to be at the palace. “Palace? What palace? I don’t know anything about a palace, do you, George?” “I haven’t got a clue what they’re talking about, Paul.” The men started to get more and more agitated, shouting “Come on, get dressed, you’ve got to go to the palace right now!” Paul and George looked at each other in amazement. “I’m not going to any place! What are they on about?” George said confused. “You’re supposed to be at the palace, meeting Mrs. Marcos! Watch!”

One of the men entered their suite and turned on the television. And there it was, live from the Presidential Palace. A line of neatly dressed children waiting for them to arrive. The reporter saying “They were supposed to be here at eleven, but they still haven’t arrived yet. This is a huge offence towards our First Lady!” Paul and George watched in amazement how they were not arriving......

***

There were signs that things were going terribly wrong that afternoon, but somehow they didn’t realize just how much. On their way to the Rizal Memorial Football Stadium, where they were scheduled to play in front of 30,000 fans, their car went the wrong way, and it took them a long time to get to the venue, leaving them with little time to prepare for the show. And after their arrival they found their dressing room to be a complete mess. They wondered about it, but didn’t put two and two together.

Brian was asked to explain for television why The Beatles didn’t go to the palace. He told the reporter that they never received an official invitation from Mrs. Marcos, so that they didn’t know they were supposed to be there, but when the interview was broadcast, the sound was completely distorted, so nobody could hear what Brian said, while there was no problem with the sound of the rest of the program. Still, they didn’t put two and two together.

Meanwhile all media were reporting about how The Beatles offended the First Lady, and people took to the street in protest against the band’s behaviour. Brian and his entourage tried to hide the problems from the boys, but after their second show in front of an enthusiastic audience of 50,000, they became very aware of it on their way back to the hotel.

Suddenly the police escort that was to accompany them to the hotel, had disappeared. The gates were locked, so they couldn’t leave the venue, and soon their car was surrounded by dozens and dozens of angry people, shouting at them, insulting them, banging on the car windows and rocking the car. Locked inside the car, the boys watched in horror what was happening around them.

“What on earth is happening? Why are they acting so violently?” John asked with a voice that clearly showed anxiety. “Apparently you offended the President and his wife” Neil answered. “Better keep the doors locked, guys, and get away from the windows as much as you can.” “Offended the President? We did not do such a thing! We’d never do something like that! What are you on about, Neil?” Paul had to shout to make himself heard over the shouting and banging. “You were supposed to meet the First Lady for lunch at the Presidential Palace just before the first show.”

“A lunch at the Palace? I don’t know anything about that! That can’t be true, Brian would never schedule something like that shortly before a show! Fuck!” Paul tried to move further to the middle of the car, when somebody started banging on the window with such a force, he thought the window might break. John hugged him close to his side, as George and Ringo, sitting opposite to them, did the same. Neil, in the front seat managed to shout “Brian didn’t know either, we never received an invitation. But now everybody’s furious!” “Look! The gates are opened! Drive! Drive!” Paul shouted at their driver. They were driven back to the hotel, and Neil told them to lock all the doors and not let anybody in, except when it was Brian, Neil or Mal.

The four of them sat down in their suite, watching television footage of angry mobs outside, shouting insults at them. They sat there in complete silence, not knowing what to say, until Paul turned off the television. “I don’t want to watch any more of this, it makes me nervous. Somehow I had a premonition something was about to go wrong today. I’m glad we’re leaving this place tomorrow.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more. Maybe we should all tuck in for the night, try to get some sleep” George said, standing up from the couch. “Yeah, that’s probably the best thing right now” John agreed.

John and Paul didn’t make love that night. They were way too upset to do so. They did hold each other close and talked about what had happened that day. “I don’t think I ever want to come back here, baby. Damn, that was frightening! I’m so glad we’ve made it back to the hotel in one piece.” John was trembling. Paul rubbed John’s back, trying to calm his partner, but he wasn’t fairing much better himself. “I know. But something tells me we’re not there yet. I won’t feel at ease until we’re in the air, on our way back home.”

***

Next day Paul’s fears became a reality. And they finally put two and two together. It was still early in the morning when they were awoken by loud banging on the door of their suite. All four of them jumped out of bed and stood in the living area, huddled together in their bathrobes, looking at the door with frightened eyes. The banging continued and loud voices shouted they had to open the door. “Should we?” Ringo asked. “No, Neil told us not to open the door for anybody we don’t know, so we won’t open it” Paul answered. “But what if they break the door down, Paul?” John stood behind Paul, his hand on Paul’s shoulder, squeezing. Paul felt John trembling. “If they want to break down the door, we can’t stop them. But we are not letting them in by ourselves, John. They won’t get to us that easily!”

After a while the banging and shouting stopped. “Let’s get dressed, guys and pack our suitcases. So we’re ready to go immediately if necessary.” Paul softly directed John toward their bedroom. “And let’s call room service for some breakfast. I’m starving” George said, walking over to the phone. “What do you guys want?” “I can’t believe you can even _think_ about food, Geo. I don’t think I can keep anything down right now. But I could use a cup of tea. John? John, would you like something to eat?” Paul called after John. “Just some tea and a piece of toast with some marmalade, baby.” George raised his eyebrows. “Did he just call you “baby”, Paul?” Paul felt himself blush. “Just a joke, I guess. Or nerves. Or both. I’m going to take a quick shower and get dressed.”

He entered the bedroom and closed the door and looked at John who was packing his things. “John, John, you just called me “baby” for George and Ringo to hear” he whispered. “You’ve got to watch what you’re saying!” “Sorry, I didn’t think. Where are you going?” Paul had dropped his bathrobe to the floor and was walking towards the en-suite bathroom stark naked. “Take a quick shower.” “Mind if I join you?” “Of course I don’t mind, silly, I never mind. But no sex, Johnny, just a quick shower, alright? I think we better get ready as quickly as possible.”

***

Their breakfast never arrived. It seemed the hotel personal refused to give them room service. And they didn’t help them carry their luggage either, when the time had come for them to leave for the airport on empty stomachs. And things went from bad to worse at the airport, where the staff had been instructed not to give them any assistance or protection. They had to wait amongst other passengers, instead of in the VIP lounge. And someone turned off the escalators when they came near them, so they had to carry their luggage and equipment, climbing the stairs.

And then they found themselves surrounded by dozens of men in military uniforms, waving coshes and firing guns in the air. They were pushed and shoved, and kicked around. Neil and Mal tried to protect them as well as they could, but there were so many of them, they couldn’t prevent the boys and Brian getting some punches. John and Paul got separated and were trying desperately to reach each other. Somebody shouted at them they were nothing special and deserved to be treated like ordinary passengers. John had managed to reach Paul again, held on to him tightly as they were trying to walk towards the gate, and panted “Ordinary passengers? Do they punch and kick all passengers like this?”

They ran the gauntlet across the tarmac and climbed aboard their plane. But once they were all on the plane, nursing their cuts and bruises, relieved they had made it, Mal and their press agent Tony Barrow were taken off the plane. They all protested, but when guns were pointed at them, they realized it was wiser to sit down and keep still. “God, what do you think they’ll do to them? Will we even see them again?” John whispered to Paul, gripping his hand tightly. Paul didn’t pull his hand back. Their need for each other right now was greater than their fear of getting caught. “If they don’t come back soon, I’m going to get off this plane to get them back myself!” “You’re not going anywhere, baby, I won’t let you! Those men are fuckin’ dangerous!”

Their plane was ready for take-off, but Mal and Derek still hadn’t come back. “Brian, you have to stop them from taking off! We have to wait for Mal and Tony, we can’t leave without them!” Paul urged Brian on. “I see what I can do, Paul, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to convince the pilot to delay the flight.” Brian did manage to do so and 45 minutes later Mal and Tony returned to the plane, looking rather pale but seemingly unharmed, and they took off.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved in all my life to be on a plane, baby.” John was still holding Paul’s hand tightly. “I’m never going back there ever again, not for all the money in the world. I was so afraid they’d hurt you, that I’d lose you there at the airport.” John rested his head on Paul’s shoulder. “God I’m tired.” “Just try to get some sleep, Johnny. We’re all fine, we’re on our way home, nothing to worry about anymore, everything’s fine.”

Soon all of them were vast asleep in their chairs. George’s head was resting against the window. Ringo’s head nodding forwards. John was snoring softly on Paul’s shoulder. But Paul couldn’t sleep. The events of the last 24 hours kept replaying in his head over and over again. How could things have gone so terribly wrong? He was so happy they had managed to escape safely of course, but at the same time he wasn’t looking forward to what was waiting for him in England.

“You’re alright, Paul?” Brian had come to sit in the seat in front of him. Paul sighed and shook his head ever so lightly. “This shouldn’t have happened, Brian. How come you didn’t see this coming?” “We didn’t get an invitation to the Palace, Paul. We might have been able to go there when I was finally told about it. I could have woken you up and we could have rushed over there, but I decided to let you sleep. Maybe I made the wrong decision, maybe we should have gone, but how was I to know things would turn so sour?” “Yeah, I guess none of us expected something like this to happen.” “But we had to leave without our money. They made us pay “taxes” by giving them all we earned on the shows, otherwise they wouldn’t let us go.” Paul slightly shook his head. “Too bad. Still, it’s only money. Let’s just be grateful we all escaped with our lives.”

Paul sighed deeply again and stared down at his hands. “The trial will start when we get home, won’t it? Are you worried about it?” Brian asked softly. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to it.” He raised his head to look at Brian. He felt tears well up in his eyes and whispered: “I’m so nervous about it. I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell what happened in front of so many strangers. Sometimes I wish I’d never gone to the police. And I’m so tired, Brian.....”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're relieved they're going back to the UK, but a trial is awaiting Paul. How is he going to deal with that?


	89. HOUSE GUESTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> On the plane back from The Philippines, Paul talks to Brian about his worries and fears. And back home, before the trial starts, John and Paul receive some house guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

John and Paul decided to stay at Kenwood during the trial. Of course it would be easier to stay at Cavendish, it wouldn’t take as much time to travel to and from the Courthouse as it would from Kenwood. But they realized there would be an enormous amount of interest from the press and fans, and that they would all be standing outside the gates of Cavendish to catch a glimpse of Paul or wanting to talk to him. Kenwood would be a much quieter place to relax after a difficult day in court. Plus, the weather was really fine, so they would be able to go for a swim every now and then, John had decided. Paul went along with John’s decision. His lover was probably right, but as for him, it didn’t matter where he stayed, he’d be anxious anywhere anyway.

On the flight back he had talked to Brian, while John peacefully snored on his shoulder. “I’m so tired, Brian, and scared.” Brian had reached out a hand and cupped his cheek. It had felt strangely reassuring. “I understand, my boy. It’s going to be hard, very hard. But you’re doing the right thing, that horrible man needs to be send to jail.” “But everybody will know the details, Brian. What will they think of me? It will hurt my image, I’m sure of it. But won’t there be fall-out for the band as well? I don’t want the others to suffer for something that only concerns me.”

“Paul, my dear boy, this concerns _all of us!_ We all love you and we’ll stand by you throughout all of this, be assured of that. And it _won’t_ hurt your image or that of the band, believe me. You haven’t done anything wrong, you were a child, an innocent victim. Nobody will blame _you_ or hold anything against _you._ I think the entire world will support you.” Brian patted Paul’s hair. “You are a very strong young man, Paul, you’ll be alright. I guess John will accompany you to court?” “Yeah, he will. I don’t think anybody can stop him from coming with me. And dad and Mike will be there too. They’re coming over to stay during the trial and want to come to the courthouse with me as well.”

“I could come along too, if you like. I can keep the press at bay, talk to them for you, so they won’t harass you.” “Would you?” “Of course Paul. That’s my job isn’t it? Taking care of you all. Although I haven’t done a good job of it lately, with everything that has happened in Japan and The Philippines.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Brian. You didn’t choose the Budokan in Tokyo, the local promoters did. They should have known better. And as for The Philippines, if you didn’t get an invitation for that lunch, how could you have known we were supposed to be there? How could any of us have known? I listened to the audiotape Tony made of your statement, where you explained what happened. They must have deliberately sabotaged the sound of your statement. I also spoke to the press just before we left the hotel, tried to explain what had happened, but it looks like that didn’t make a difference either. What’s wrong with those people? Maybe we shouldn’t go to countries anymore that are ruled by a dictator. That is, if we ever go on tour again….”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean, Paul? We’re touring the USA in august!” “Yeah, I know. But I’m not sure we’ll tour again after that.” “You’re thinking of quitting touring!?” “Not me, Brian, but George and John are fed up with it. And I think Ringo agrees with them. I’ve already argued with John about it. But he’s had enough of all the madness that surrounds our tours. The fact that nobody can actually hear us play. That we are locked up in hotel rooms, with hardly any possibility to see something of the places we visit.” “Stop touring? But Paul, that would be disastrous! People want to see you guys. And most of the money we make comes from the touring. Do you agree with them?”

“I don’t know, Brian” Paul sighed. “Part of me does. Being locked up in boring hotels isn’t exactly fun, is it? And, yes, I would prefer the audiences to actually listen to our music. And then there’s the problem of us not being able to play a lot of our current songs, because we’re using so many more instruments on our recordings nowadays. How are we going to play songs from “Revolver” live? Take a string octet along for “Eleanor Rigby”? A French Horn player for “For No One”? A brass section for “Got to get you into my life?” Are we going to take a piano, a Hammond organ, a clavichord and a sitar with us on tour? And what about all the sound effects we’ve used? We can’t possible reproduce the songs we’ve done for the album live on stage. Not the way they’re supposed to sound anyway. It’s like when we do “Yesterday” at our shows. The way we play it live is so far away from how it should sound, it doesn’t do justice to the song at all. And now we’re getting death threats as well, and we’re being bullied……“

“But on the other hand, I _love_ performing! I love to be in touch with our audience. Love to see them enjoy our music. Of course our records sell very well, which indicates our audience likes us, but you don’t see the faces of the record buyers, do you? Whereas you can see them when you perform for them. And I simply love playing. Period. There’s nothing I like more than playing live.” Paul paused for a second and then smiled mischievously. “Well, actually, I can think of _a few things_ I like more than performing, but I wouldn’t do _those_ in front of an audience.” “Paul!” Paul’s face turned serious again. “I don’t know, Brian, I simply don’t know. All the pros and cons of stopping to tour keep fighting in my mind. And with the worries about the trial, and constantly being on my toes about my relationship with John, while keeping up a brave face, while always trying to be happy, funny, cute Beatle Paul…….It’s all a bit too much to handle right now.” Paul sighed. “I’m just so bloody tired, Brian.”

***

They arrived at Kenwood at the end of the morning of 8 July. In two days time the trial would start. Jim and Mike would come over tomorrow afternoon and stay in one of the guestrooms. They had plenty of them at Kenwood after all. John and Paul had dragged their luggage upstairs and were unpacking their suitcases, when the phone rang. Paul picked up.

“Hello?” “Hello? Paul? Paul is that you?” For a moment Paul struggled to recognize the polite, female voice on the other side, but it soon dawned on him whom he was speaking to. Mimi Smith. “Mrs. Smith? Yes, it’s Paul. How are you doing?” he asked politely, “we’ve just arrived back from our tour.”

“I know, Paul, it’s been all over the news, the way you were manhandled in The Philippines. Mr. Epstein should never had let you go to such a barbaric country. I’m so glad you all returned safely. And I’m doing fine, Paul, thank you for asking.” “Shall I call John to the phone?” “No, no need to do that. I wanted to talk to you.” Paul raised his eyebrows. Mimi wanted to talk to him? John’s “little friend”? Did he hear that right? “Me? You want to talk to me? What about then?” He put his hand over the receiver and whispered to John “It’s Mimi. She wants to talk to me.” Now John raised his eyebrows and looked at Paul with a “beats me” expression.

“I just wanted to find out how you are holding up. I’ve heard of that horrible man who did such unspeakable things to you as a child. I haven’t got around telling you how sorry I am about that. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you. I wish I could have helped you, I would have helped you if you’d told me, Paul. You may have been from the wrong side of town, and your religion may not be mine, but no child should suffer abuse at the hands of an adult, and Our Lord teaches us to help each other in our hour of need, regardless of your descent or religion, doesn’t He? I’m sure you Roman Catholics feel the same.” “Yes, we do, Mrs. Smith” Paul answered politely. No need to tell her that he actually lost his faith in God, in any God, years ago.

“And the trial against that horrible man starts the day after tomorrow, if I’m not mistaken? You must be dreading that, I can imagine you’re very nervous about it.” ”I’m not exactly looking forward to it, Mrs. Smith.” “Mimi, you can call me Mimi, my dear boy. We’ve known each other for so many years already, haven’t we? And you’re always such a good influence on my John. He’s very lucky to have you as his friend, Paul.”

Was he hearing this right? Did Mimi just awarded him with a compliment? Just like that, out of the blue? “Eh, thank you Mrs…..Mimi, but I rather consider myself lucky to have John as a friend.” “Don’t put yourself down, Paul, you’ve really been an asset in John’s life. And you are so incredibly musical. I never really cared for the kind of music that group of yours make, but I must tell you that “Yesterday” is one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard.”

“Anyway, the reason I’m calling you, is that I wonder if there’s anybody looking after you during the trial? I guess John will be with you, as your best friend?” “Yes, Mrs…..Mimi, I’m staying at John’s place and he’ll accompany me to the Courthouse.” “And who will prepare your dinner at night, when you return from your day in Court?” “Eh, we’ll do that ourselves, I suppose. We usually do. Or my dad perhaps. He and Mike are coming over here tomorrow and they’ll go to the trial with me as well.”

“But I’m sure that after such an emotionally difficult day in a Courtroom, the last thing you’ll all be up to is making yourselves a nourishing meal. That’s why I’m coming over to stay. I’ll make sure you’re all well fed. It’s important to eat healthy when you’re going through such a hard time.” “Oh, there’s no need to do that, Mrs……Mimi. No need to get through all that trouble. I’m sure that between the four of us we can manage to make….” “It’s no trouble at all, my dear boy. Our Lord teaches us to take care of each other. Being a Good Samaritan is our duty, isn’t it? So that’s what I’ll do.” ”But Mimi…..” “I’m taking the 2.05 train, so I’ll be at London’s Euston Station at 6.10. Could you have somebody pick me up and drive me to John’s house from there? I’m taking a casserole I’ve made, so we only need to heat that up for dinner tonight.” “But Mimi, there really is no need…..” “And if you can arrange for me to get some groceries for the coming days, we will all be set. See you tonight, Paul.” “But Mimi….” Paul tried, but John’s aunt had hung up already, leaving Paul totally speechless, looking at the receiver in his hand in utter disbelief, his mouth hanging open.

“Paul? Baby? What’s wrong?” John asked worriedly. “What did she say to you? You’re scaring me, love, tell me what’s wrong?” “She’s coming over.” “Who’s coming over?” “Mimi, your aunt. She’s coming over. Tonight. To stay.” Paul looked at John with wide eyes, then back to the receiver in his hand again and then to John again. “She told me to call her Mimi.” “She’s coming here? To stay? Why? For how long?” “To cook us dinner during the trial.” “To cook us…..Paul! Couldn’t you have told her there’s no need for that? It’s one thing to have Jim and Mike in the house, but Mimi as well? We already have to be careful enough to not make Jim and Mike find out about us. But Mimi with her piercing eyes? I’m afraid she’ll catch on to us in no time when she spends a couple of days with us! You should have told her not to come!”

“I tried to, John, but she steamrolled right over me, I couldn’t get a word in.” Paul finally put down the receiver, sat down on the bed and sighed. “Well, nothing to be done about it now. We’d better arrange for our driver to pick her up from the station and get another guestroom ready.”  
John sighed. “I guess there’s no escaping her then. And….. wait a minute……she told you to call her “Mimi”? You? My “little R.C. friend”? Are you sure you heard that right?”

***

Mimi’s casserole had been lovely. Home cooked meals were always very welcome after weeks of hotel food. She had admired the house of course, John giving the grand tour, rather proudly. “What a wonderful place you have here, John. Who would have thought that playing with your group would earn you enough money to buy a beautiful property like this? All you need now is a lovely girl to make your life complete.”

He had shown her the garden as well, since she was a keen gardener herself. “This is really beautiful, John, but so huge? You won’t be able to do all the gardening yourself. Not even when you find a nice girl who helps you with it.” “No, we’v…….I’ve got a gardener who does the weeds and stuff.” “And your own swimming pool! I’m sure some lucky girl would love to sunbathe by that pool.” John had shown her to the guestroom, which she approved of, although “it could use a woman’s touch” and she had gone to bed early. It had been a long traveling day after all.

“My God! I swear if she talks about me “marrying a nice girl” just one more time, I won’t be able to control myself! I knew it was a bad idea, her coming here.” “Ah, come on, Johnny. The casserole was very nice. And she seems really proud of your house.” “Yeah, but it “could use a woman’s touch” she said.” Paul chuckled. “Well, you know what to do then, love, find yourself a nice girl and all that.” “I’ve already got myself a beautiful princess, haven’t I, baby? Come over here you.” He took Paul in his arms and pressed a tender kiss to those luscious lips. “She actually calls you “Paul” all of the time, have you noticed that?” “Yeah, I’m no longer “your little friend” or “young man” or “that little Irish R.C. from the council flats”. I almost miss those “terms of endearment” she’s used all those years.”

***

Paul was awoken the next morning by a knock on the door. He slipped into his bathrobe and went to open the door. “John, rise and shine, breakfast’s rea…..Paul?” Mimi. Fuck. “Good morning Mrs……Mimi.” “Paul? What are you doing in John’s bedroom? I thought _that…”_ she pointed at another bedroom, _“that_ was your room? Or did I mix things up? There are so many rooms in this house after all.” “Eh, no, no, you didn’t mix things up. I just eh…..I kind of eh…..I had a nightmare last night and eh…..you know, I have them every now and then, about, eh….you know, what happened and eh…..I went over to John’s room because…..because eh….because I couldn’t sleep. And it eh…..it kind of helps when he…..eh…..when somebody’s in the room with me. So that’s why I’m here.” God, that didn’t come out very easy, did it?

“You really should learn to speak more clearly, Paul, dear. All those “ehs” make it very hard to understand what you’re saying. But I understand, of course. You’re bound to have nightmares after the horrors you’ve gone through. I’m glad John’s presence is helping you deal with it. Now, just wake my nephew up and both of you come down for breakfast, before it gets cold. I’ve made a Full English one.”

***

Jim and Mike arrived later that afternoon and after settling down in their rooms. Mimi made them tea and served them with dainty little teacakes she made. Jim and Mimi soon were talking about everything their boys had been through, how proud they were of them, but also how worried they had been when the story of their Philippines debacle had hit the news.

Mike was talking to John and Paul about their recent adventures and observed them closely. A little touch here, a small squeeze there. Finishing each other’s sentences. Looks of understanding. A hand on a thigh. A shy smile. A little blush. It was all so clear to him now. Amazing, really, that nobody seemed to have noticed. And when they went up to their rooms, hours after Jim and Mimi had gone to bed, and he saw John and Paul disappear into the same room, with so many rooms available, he couldn’t deny it to himself any longer. His brother was romantically involved with John Lennon. And strangely enough, it didn’t feel appalling. It felt right. If there ever were two people _so perfectly attuned to each other, so right together, so made for each other,_ than it were John and Paul. They completely complemented each other. And he could see how happy his brother was. And wasn’t that all that mattered in the end? Paul _deserved_ to be happy. But boy, did his brother choose a difficult path for himself......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, in the next chapter, the trial will finally start, so be prepared for some difficult times for Paul.


	90. THE TRIAL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> The trial starts and Paul has to testify. John hears something Paul has never told him before. And Mike tells Jim something about his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

Brian arrived with their permanent driver Alf Bricknell in a limo, to drive them all to the Courthouse. Before they left, Mimi hugged Paul, kissed his cheek, wished him strength and then turned to John. “Look after him, John, Paul is going to need your support today.” _Paul._ Not his “little friend” anymore. It made John smile in spite of the difficult day that lay ahead.

Dozens of photographers and reporters had assembled in front of the Courthouse. “Just exit the car, keep you heads down and walk straight inside” Brian instructed John, Paul, Jim and Mike. “I’ll talk to them, give them a short statement and follow you inside.”

Jim and Mike left the car first, followed by Paul and John. John walked beside his boyfriend, his hand on Paul lower back for reassurance. The flashes of the cameras almost blinded them and reporters were shouting questions. “How are you feeling, Paul?” “Are you going to testify today, Paul?” “Do you think he’ll get convicted, Paul?” “Is John going to be with you during the entire trial, Paul?” “Are you nervous, Paul?” Paul didn’t answer, kept his head down and walked to the door with fast, long strides, like Brian had told him to, glad that John was there beside him.

***

There was a briefing from the Prosecutor, Adrian Sinclair, with all of Maxwell Edison’s victims present. He explained the procedure, gave them the order in which they would be called to testify, and told them that the trial would possibly take a couple of days. He also warned them that the Defence Attorney would ask some very intimidating and hostile questions. “Just answer truthfully, and don’t be afraid to show your emotions. We want the Jury to know the extent of what the defendant has done to all of you and how this has affected, and still affects, your day-to-day life.”

Paul was told he’d be called to the stand last. “Because of your fame, and because you are a very beloved young man, your testimony probably will have the greatest impact, so it’s wise to close our case with your testimony.”

Next thing he knew, he was sitting in the public tribune of the Courtroom, John and Brian on one side, his dad and Mike on the other, seeing the Jury for the first time. And then Maxwell Edison was led into the Courtroom. Paul’s heart skipped a beat, his blood ran cold and he felt all colour leave his face. John grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly, while his dad patted his knee reassuringly. Maxwell Edison’s eyes scanned the tribune and his eyes met Paul’s, giving him an evil smile. ”All rise!” The Judge came in. The trial had started.

***

They arrived home after a long first day in Court, to the smell of home cooking. Mimi had made tasty steak and kidney pies, but Paul wasn’t very hungry and only ate a little. His appetite always totally disappeared whenever he was upset. Mimi tried in vain to convince him to eat a bit more. “You’ve got to eat, Paul, there’s going to be more long days ahead, and you’ve got to keep up your strength.” “I’m sorry, Mimi, it’s really great, really, but I’m just not hungry, I’m sorry. And I’m rather tired as well, so think I might go to bed early.” Paul stood up from the table. “If you’ll excuse me. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

John’s eyes followed Paul leaving the room, and he sighed deeply, looking worried. “Don’t be offended, Mimi, Paul’s just too upset to eat, he always loses his appetite when he’s upset. It’s been hard today, hearing the stories of the others. Hard for all of us to hear actually, knowing Paul has gone through the same thing. But it’s hardest for Paul of course, it brings back memories he’d rather forget.” Mimi nodded. “I’m not offended, John, I understand. How many others testified today?”

“Three men took to the stand today. One of them was Tony Anderson. He was the first one who went to the police, but they didn’t believe him” John answered. “His own parents didn’t believe him at first” Jim added. “I can’t understand that at all. Why wouldn’t you believe your own son? I mean, why would anyone lie about something as horrible as that? I had no doubt in my mind that Paul was telling the truth. It must have been so hard for that young man, being labelled a liar.”

“That’s why Paul finally decided to go to the police himself. He couldn’t live with the knowledge that Tony was telling the truth, yet nobody believed him.” John had stopped eating. Mimi’s pie was very tasty, but he was itching to go upstairs to see how Paul was doing. “Tomorrow another three will testify, and the day after that, the parents of the two minor boys are taking the stand. On the last day, Bonnie Keating will testify. Her younger brother was abused by that bastard and committed suicide some time ago. He left a diary describing what he went through. And Paul will be the last one to be called to testify. So, difficult times ahead.” John stood up from the table as well. “I think I’m going to check on Paul, see if he’s alright.” Mimi nodded. “I think that’s a good idea, John. Paul needs all the support he can get right now.”

***

John entered their bedroom. It was dark, but he could see Paul was not in bed. The bathroom door was slightly ajar and a small ray of light entered the bedroom, accompanied by the sound of running water. Looked like Paul was taking a shower. John opened the bathroom door further. Paul was sitting on the shower floor, his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms encircling his legs, his dark head resting on his knees. The water was pouring down on him. John could see his shoulders shake from the heartbreaking sobs he heard.

“Oh my God, Paul.” John took off his clothes as fast as he could, entered the shower stall and sat down next to Paul, taking the young man in his arms. “It’s alright, baby, just let it all out. It’ll do you good. It’s alright, love, I’m here.” They sat there for a long, long time, until Paul’s sobs died out and the water was starting to grow cold.

***

The next two days Paul sat on the public tribune, listening to the testimonies of the other victims. Their stories were all so familiar. The pain. The fear. The shame. The loneliness. He often reached for John’s hand for reassurance, to ground himself. And John would squeeze his hand gently, his thumb running over the back of his hand. His dad’s presence had a calming effect on him as well, the older McCartney often touching his arm in a comforting way, especially when Maxwell Edison would throw an evil smile in his direction that made him shiver.

Brian would talk to the press every day, giving short statements to the dozens of reporters that stood in front of the Court every day, so Paul wouldn’t have to speak to them himself. John called them “vultures” trying to get a juicy story in their papers and tabloids over the back of an innocent abuse victim and tried to shield him from the flashing cameras as best as he could.

And after an emotionally exhausting day in court, Paul would return to Kenwood with the others to be greeted by the smell of some delicious home cooking and a warm hug from Mimi. She seemed to have really warmed up to him.

But all the support from his loved ones didn’t do anything to ease his nervousness. Tomorrow would be the day. The day he would have to testify in Court. The day he would have to tell his painful history in front of the Judge and Jury. In front of the whole world. All the gruesome details that he was so ashamed of. The last thing he thought when he finally fell asleep in John’s loving arms, that night was:“If only I wouldn’t wake up tomorrow morning.”

***

Bonnie Keating’s testimony about her deceased brother, had shaken Paul to the core. She had read some paragraphs from her brother’s diary, and the feelings of pain, desperation and loneliness expressed in there, reminded Paul so much of his own feelings at the time, he had to bite his bottom lip hard to stop himself from crying.

And after she had read out loud, to the Judge and the Jury, the last entry in the diary, where her brother wrote about his intentions to take his own life, because he couldn’t live with the painful memories, Paul had to wipe the tears from his eyes. He himself had been in that same place a couple of times, not seeing any other way out than taking his own life. To end all the pain. But he had been saved. By Dusty. By John. By himself. By chance......

And then suddenly, it was his turn to take the stand. He felt his stomach turn. Both his dad and John grabbed one of his hands before he stood up, giving him reassuring squeezes. “You can do it, love, I know you can. And I’ll be right here, just look at me when things get difficult, baby” John whispered.

But as he sat down at the stand, and his eyes met Maxwell Edison’s, he told himself to stop being such a wimp and man up. He was going to put that man behind bars. He was going to make him pay for what he’d done to him. So he straightened his back, swallowed down the lump in his throat and answered the question of the bailiff: “Do, you James Paul McCartney, swear to speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” with a firm, unwavering voice. “I swear.”

***

The Prosecutor asked him all the questions he feared he would ask. But he answered each and every one of them, no matter how hard it was. This was the time to tell his story, his chance to put that man in jail and make him pay. So he told about the first time Maxwell Edison had made him take him in his mouth, how he couldn’t breathe and almost choked. How he would always threaten him, so he would not tell anybody. How he had raped him for the first time. And over and over again after that first time. The pain. The blood. How he would throw away his blood stained underwear and buy new ones with his pocket money.

How he would stay at home from school every time, the day after being raped. How he would fear going home from school, after his dad had told him in the morning that Mr. Maxwell (“I always thought Maxwell was his last name”) would be babysitting that night.

He often sought out John’s eyes for reassurance. And John’s encouraging smile would give him the strength to go on. So he saw John’s eyes widen when he told about his first suicide attempt.

“Mr. Maxwell had left my bedroom after raping me. It had been extremely brutal that night and I was in a lot of pain. I stumbled over to the bathroom to clean myself up and wipe the blood from my thighs. I remember looking in the mirror and seeing myself so devastated, so broken. And I knew I couldn’t go on like that anymore. I opened the cabinet to take the ointment I always used to ease the pain a bit, and I saw the bottle of painkillers. I remember thinking how many pills it would take to overdose. How many I would need to kill myself. To stop the pain once and for all.”

“I opened the bottle. There were a dozen or so left. I shook them out of the bottle into my hand. I remember staring at them for some time, wondering if I should take them, and then making the decision. I swallowed them all. I stared at my own image in the mirror for some time. My eyes just seemed so hollow. I went back to my room to lie on my bed, waiting for the end to come. It didn’t though. My stomach started making all kind of noises and I felt extremely sick. Before I knew it, I threw up all over my bed.”

“How old were you when this happened, Mr. McCartney?” the Prosecutor asked. “Twelve. I was twelve years old.” “You were twelve years old, and you wanted to kill yourself?” “Yes.” “You must have been very desperate, wanting to kill yourself at such a young age.” “I was.” “Was that the only time you’ve tried to commit suicide?” “No, it wasn’t. I’ve tried three times more. Once my old schoolteacher walked by accidently and stopped me from jumping into the Mersey. Once my friend John got to me in time. And once I managed to get myself together and stop myself in time. _But my first suicide attempt happened when I was twelve.”_

***

And then it was the Defence Attorney’s turn to question him. “You are a very handsome young man, wouldn’t you say so, Mr. McCartney?” The question puzzled him. “I don’t know? It’s not something you can judge yourself I think.” “Well, I can, and I think millions of your fans around the world will agree with me. And don’t you agree with me that your looks are very, very.... delicate, a bit.....feminine even?” Paul’s eyes widened. “Feminine? I don’t think I look feminine. I have very heavy beard growth, as you can probably see for yourself. I don’t understand why you’re asking this?”

“I’ve seen photos of you as a child. You’ve always been a very beautiful, charming boy. And I think you’ve always used that beauty and charm to get what you wanted. Didn’t you? To _seduce_ the people around you, with those beautiful, big, doe eyes and that incredibly charming smile. Couldn’t it be true you have _seduced_ my client? That you _lured_ him with your looks and charm into having sex with you? That you _provoked_ him? That you _asked_ for it by the way you looked? _Used_ those looks?”

“I beg your pardon!? _Seduced him?_ I was _eight years old_ for heaven’s sake! I don’t think eight year olds have sex on their mind! I don’t think ten years olds have sex on their mind, nor twelve year olds! I don’t think I ever even heard about sex at that age, let alone wanting it!”

“And the thought that I _provoked_ him, _asked_ for it by my looks, that’s.....that’s simply ridiculous! You’re not telling a pretty girl it’s her fault she got raped because she’s pretty, do you? Yet, when it’s a handsome man who’s gotten raped, he suddenly _asked for it?”_

“And anyway, I wasn’t a _man._ I was a _child,_ for heaven’s sake! _A child!_ An adult isn’t allowed to have sex with a child, whether that child is beautiful or not. No man should lay his hands on a child in that way. Not ever! So, no, I did _not seduce_ him, I did _not lure_ him, I did _not ask_ for it! I did _not want_ it! He _forced_ himself on me! I was _eight years old_ when it started! I was _ten years old_ when he first _raped_ me! You can’t _possibly_ believe I wanted that to happen! That I initiated it!”

“He was supposed to take care of us. My father entrusted his sons to this man’s care. He volunteered to babysit us. But the only reason he volunteered to do so, was not because he wanted to look after us, not to help my dad out, but solely to have access to young boys with whom he could satisfy his perverted sexual needs! The man’s a _paedophile, a predator_ that seeks out young, innocent boys. That man should never be allowed to come near a child again. _Never!”_

***

“You never told me you’d tried to commit suicide when you were twelve, Paul.” John spoke softly on their way back home. “I always thought that time when Dusty saved you was the first attempt.....I almost lost you before I even got to change to meet you.” His dad took Paul’s hand in his and squeezed it. “I remember that day you threw up all over your bed. You were so sick, I wanted to call the doctor” Jim said, “but you kept telling me you’d be alright.....I was really worried, but you told me not to call the doctor.” “I was afraid the doctor would find out about the abuse. I couldn’t let that happen.....”

Back at Kenwood, Paul went outside to sit by the swimming pool. He wanted to be alone for a while. John stared at the lone figure sitting there. Paul looked so desolate, sitting on the ground, his knees tucked up under his chin. He shouldn’t be alone right now. So he decided to join Paul on the patio. “Baby, mind if I join you?” Paul looked up at him with such sadness and pain in his eyes it nearly broke John’s heart.

He sat down next to Paul, putting his arm around his lover’s shoulders, hugging him close to his side. “Come here, baby, let me hold you.” Paul didn’t resist. He rested his head on John’s shoulder. “It was so horrible, John, so horrible. That man suggested I had _asked for it, wanted it!”_ “I know, bunny, that was absolutely hideous! But you told him where to shove it! You were amazing! You were so strong today, I’m so proud of you.” “It was so difficult....” Paul started sobbing softly. “So difficult....”

John hugged Paul closer, started stroking the dark hair and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. “It’s alright, baby, it’s okay. I’m here. You did so well today. I love you. I love you so, so much. And it’s all over now. You’ve done what you needed to do and you did it so well.” He kissed Paul’s hair. “I love you so much.” Paul had stopped sobbing and he sniffed. “It really meant a lot to me that you were there, it really gave me the strength to talk about it all. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Paul looked up at him with his kaleidoscope eyes, teardrops in those long eyelashes. “Thank you.” John cupped Paul’s cheek tenderly. “No need to thank me, bunny. It’s what you do when you love somebody. You stand by them through thick and thin.” He caressed Paul’s cheek with his thumb. “And I happen to love you with all my heart.” His lips found Paul’s and they kissed tenderly. Paul sighed and put his head on John’s shoulder again. “Hold me, Johnny.” And that’s exactly what John did.

***

From inside the house, Jim watched John kiss his son and his stomach turned. Suddenly he felt Mike’s presence beside him. “They’re together, dad. Paul and John. They’re together. Romantically. They’re a couple” Mike whispered.

“What do you mean by that, Mike?” “Haven’t you ever noticed the way they look at each other? The way they always touch each other, finish each other’s sentences? Why do you think neither of them has ever had a girlfriend, when girls around the world are lining up for them? Why they’re not only sharing a house together, but also a bedroom, a bed even?”

“They have their own houses, Mike, they just stay over at each other’s place a lot, because they have to write songs together.” “They share the same bedroom, dad.” “Only because Paul is having a difficult time right now, he needs somebody around at night. Because of the nightmares.” “They always sleep together, dad.” “How do you know that?”

“Remember when we stayed over at Cavendish, right after we found out about the sexual abuse? John slept in Paul’s room.” “But that was so we could sleep in _his_ room, because the other guestrooms weren’t ready yet.” “But if that room was _John’s_ room, why weren’t there any of his belongings there? The wardrobe was empty, none of his clothes in there. None of his toiletries in the bathroom either.” “Because he removed them so we could use the room.” “They didn’t know we were coming, dad, didn’t know we would stay the night.... John’s belongings weren’t there because he sleeps in _Paul’s_ bedroom, _Paul’s_ bed, _always. They’re together, dad.”_

Jim was silent for a few seconds. “What do you mean, Mike? What are you’re trying to tell me? Are you saying.....are you suggesting......do you think your brother, my son......Are you telling me Paul.....Paul is _queer?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Paul finally testified. His difficult day in Court is over. But will the day get even more difficult for him, now his father has found out about him and John?


	91. PLEASE DON'T HATE ME......

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> A serious talk between father and son....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“John? John I’d like to talk to my son alone for a moment. Do you mind going inside?” John and Paul both startled at Jim’s words and let go of each other. They hadn’t heard him coming outside. They looked at each other with worry in their eyes. They had completely forgotten they weren’t alone. How much did Jim see?

“Yeah….yeah, I…..Paul? You want me to go inside? You’ll be alright?” Paul bit his bottom lip as his eyes travelled from John to his dad and back. “Yeah, I’ll be alright, John, thanks.” John stood up and started walking towards the sliding doors, halting when he was halfway there, turning around. “Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Jim pulled one of the sun beds closer and sat on it. “Too old to sit on the ground. I’m not as nimble as you are.” Paul looked up to his dad from his position on the floor. Why did his dad want to talk to him alone? “It’s been a hard day, hasn’t it son?” Paul nodded. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy. I’m glad it’s over.” “You did very well, Paul, I’m really proud of you. You were amazingly strong today. But that shouldn’t surprise me. Your mother was just like that. Strong. You remind me so much of her sometimes. I think she would have been very proud of you today as well.”

“You think so?” Paul whispered. “I often wonder what she would think of me, if she would have liked the things I’m doing, my music. If she would have liked the man I’ve become.” “She would have been incredibly proud of you, son, be assured of that. She might have envisioned another career for you, but she would have been so proud of all you’ve achieved, and the handsome young man you turned out to be. And she would have been your greatest fan and supporter. All she ever wanted for you and Mike, was for you both to live a happy life, no matter what it would be that would make you happy. No matter _who_ would make you happy.”

Paul looked at his dad, a little puzzled. What did his dad mean by those last words? Jim sighed and looked his son in the eyes. “Is there something you need to tell me, Paul?” Paul felt his stomach turn. “Something I need to tell you? What do you mean?” “Is there something you need to tell me about you and……about you and….. _John?”_

Paul felt all colour leave his face. Did his dad know? He couldn’t know! They’d always been so careful. But then again, they hadn’t been very careful just now, had they? Did his dad see them kiss? Was he going to disown him now? Tell him he was disgusted by him and not wanted him as his son anymore? Paul was panicking now. He didn’t want to lose his dad! But he was afraid that was exactly what was going to happen. His dad would never approve of his relationship with John. No father wanted a queer for a son! Tears were welling up in his eyes.

“Please don’t hate me......” he whispered, hugging his arms around himself in despair. “Hate you?” Paul felt his dad’s hand on his hair. “Hate you? Oh my boy, I could _never_ hate you! You are the most precious thing your mother has ever given me. I could never hate you, son. You can tell me anything, Paul, no matter what, and I will not love you any less, I promise you.” Jim slipped off his sun bed and sat on the ground next to his son, placing his arm around his shoulders. “So, is it true? About you and John? Are you....are the two of you.....are you.....together?”

***

John was watching Jim and Paul sitting on the patio from inside the house. He was biting his bottom lip, worried. Why did Jim want to talk to his son alone? He saw Jim sit on the ground next to Paul, his arm around his shoulders. Paul looked so......upset? Why was Paul upset? What had Jim said to him? Paul had such a difficult day in court and the very last thing he needed right now, was for Jim to upset him even more. He wanted to open the doors to go over to Paul, but Mike stopped him.

“Don’t John. Let them talk.” John looked at Paul’s brother, confused. “Talk? What do they need to talk about?” Mike placed his hand on John’s arm. “You. Paul’s relationship with you.” John felt his heart grow cold. “What do you mean? Paul’s relationship with me? We’re good friends and musical partners. Just that. Nothing special. What is there to talk about?”

“The fact that you are more than just friends and musical partners.” “More? What are you on about?” “The fact that you and Paul are.....are romantically involved. That the two of you are together. As a couple.” John’s eyes widened and he looked at Mike, than back to Paul and Jim, then back to Mike again. “Oh no, God, not now. Not now! He’s so vulnerable right now, he’ll break if he loses his dad now. He won’t be able to handle that right now. I’ve got to go to him. I’ve got to....”

He wanted to go outside, run over to Paul, but Mike grabbed his arm. “No John. Let them talk.” “But....” “I think it’s time Paul tells dad about the two of you.” John groaned. “Not now, not now, he can’t lose his dad right now....” “He won’t lose him, John. My dad’s a lot more understanding than you give him credit for.”

John closed his eyes and grabbed his hair, pulling it in despair. “How..... how did you find out? We’ve been so careful......” “Well, you’re a lot less careful than you think, John. I’m surprised nobody found out about the two of you yet, the signs are there for all to see, if you know where to look. But I suppose you’ve been lucky. Nobody seems to put two and two together, they believe what you tell them, because that’s what they want to see. But I’ve put two and two together some time ago already. You’re romantically involved with my brother.”

John bit his bottom lip again and his eyes wandered over to Paul and Jim once more. Jim now held Paul in his arms. Was Paul crying? Oh, how he wanted to go over to them to see if Paul was alright. He looked at Mike again. “So you think your dad’s going to be okay with it?” he paused for a moment. “And how do _you_ feel about it?”

“I’m not sure if dad will be _okay_ with it, John, but he will certainly try to _understand_ and _accept_ it. Paul means the world to him, and he will stand by him no matter what. And as for me..... It feels a little weird, knowing your brother is into men. I can’t imagine myself being involved with another man, not romantically and certainly not sexually. Or don’t you guys have sex?” “Mike! Of course we have sex.....I mean, yeah, our relationship is physical as well. But the bottom line is that we really _love_ each other.” John was silent for a few seconds and then grinned. “But the sex is absolutely _amazing,_ you know!” “Please spare me the details, Lennon! I really don’t want to know what you and my brother do in bed.”

John’s face turned serious again. “But really Mike, how _do_ you feel about it?” “Like I said, it’s a little weird, but then again, it also seems so......natural? Like you and Paul belong together, were meant to be together, you know? You really are two sides of the same coin, two parts of a whole, you complement each other in so many ways.....I can see that very clearly. And if you guys are happy together, if you truly love each other....” “We do.” “Then who am I to object to your relationship? I want my brother to be happy, you know. He really _deserves_ to be happy. And if being happy means being with you, then I guess I’m okay with it. Still feels a bit weird, but I suppose I’ll get used to it.”

***

“I’m sorry, dad, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t want to be like this. Honestly I didn’t. I really tried to fight it, tried to deny the feelings I had for John, really I did! But I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried. I can’t help it, dad, I’m so sorry. I just love him so much......I’m so sorry to be such a disappointment to you.....”

Jim sighed. “You’re _not_ a disappointment to me, son. I’m very proud of you. Of everything you have achieved. Of the man you’ve become. You’re successful, talented, rich, handsome, strong, kind.....Everything a father wants of a son. How could I be _disappointed_ in you?”

“But you don’t want _a queer_ for a son, dad. _No father wants a queer for a son.”_ Paul swallowed the lump in his throat. “So, I’ll understand if you don’t want me as a son anymore, I do. But please don’t go to the police......”

 _“Go to the police?_ Oh Paul, how can you think that? Do you really think I’d turn you in to the police? You’re my son! I don’t want you to go to jail! And I still want you as my son, my boy, of course I do.” Jim sighed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m _happy_ about it. I’d much rather want you to be, you know, _normal?_ Not queer.” “I _am_ normal, dad, I’m just like everybody else. I just happen to love a man instead of a woman.” “But that’s not _really_ normal, is it? It’s not the way it’s supposed to be.”

“I can’t help it, dad. I just _am_ like that. I can’t change what I feel. I can’t change who I love. And I happen to be in love with John. And _I know_ it’s considered a crime, _I know_ it’s considered a sin, _but I can’t change who I am.....”_ Paul looked at his dad with desperate eyes. “Please understand, dad. I wish I could be the son you’d want me to be, but this is who I am, I can’t change it. And you know, I wouldn’t _want_ to change it. I can’t _imagine_ a life without John. I love him so much....”

“Does he make you happy?” his dad asked softly. “Yes, he does. He makes me _very_ happy, I don’t know where I’d be without him. I love him so much.....I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I can’t imagine spending my life with _anybody else._ He really _knows me, understands me_. He’s always there for me. Makes me feel loved. _Happy.”_

Jim nodded. “That’s what I want for both you and Mike. I want you to be _happy,_ more than anything in the world, that’s what I want for you, Paul. Happiness. That’s what _your mother_ would have wanted for you as well. For you to be happy, regardless _what,_ regardless _who with._ And I think she would have put me in my place if I would not accept you as you are. So as long as John makes you happy, I _will accept_ your relationship with him. I won’t pretend I _like_ it, because I don’t understand how a man can be in love with another man, but I will _accept_ it. And I will _try to understand.”_

Another deep sigh followed. “You’ve chosen a hard life for yourself, son. Living in a forbidden relationship, always having to be on your toes to make sure nobody finds out.” “I didn’t _choose_ it, dad. It _happened,_ and there was _nothing_ I could do to change it. But you’re right, it is hard. _It’s hard_ when you can’t tell anybody you’re in love, _it’s hard_ always having to hide my feelings for John. I wish I could tell the whole world about us, about our love. _It’s hard_ to always be afraid someone will find out and report us to the police. I don’t want to end up in jail. It’s so unfair! How can love be a crime?”

“I cannot give you an answer to that question, my boy, but the fact is that it _is_ considered a crime by law, so _please_ be careful. Please make sure _nobody_ finds out. I don’t want to see you go to jail either.” Jim wrapped his arm around Paul’s shoulders and hugged him close to his side. “I can see John cares for you, you know. In the way he looks at you, touches you. In the way he’s protective of you, in the way he supports you...... _I can see he loves you.”_ He pressed a kiss to Paul’s hair. “It’s going to be alright, son. It will take a while for me to get used to it, but I’ll come around in the end, I promise you.”

Paul rested his head on Jim’s shoulder. “So you don’t hate me?” he whispered. “I’ve been so afraid you’d hate me and disown me if you’d ever find out I was homosexual. I’d be so devastated if I would lose your love. Have I lost your love?” he asked with a trembling voice. “No, you haven't, son. You could _never_ lose my love, and I could _never_ hate you. It’s just such a shame, you know.” “A shame?” “You would have given me such beautiful grandchildren.”

Paul chuckled. “Well, I guess it’s up to Mike to make you a granddad. He’d better marry Angela soon and provide you with some grandkids then.” “I hope he will. But they won’t be as beautiful as the ones _you_ would have given me, Paul.”

***

John looked at Paul with a worried frown, when he walked in with Jim. “Alright, Paul?” he asked softly. Paul nodded. “I’m fine, John. Dad......dad knows about us......” John looked from Paul to Jim and back. “Yeah, Mike said so.....” John searched Paul’s eyes to see if he could figure out how Paul was doing. He didn’t seem upset, so that was a good sign. “Apparently we haven’t been careful enough, Johnny.” Paul reached for John’s hand and John laced his fingers with Paul’s. “So now dad and Mike know about us being together.”

John looked at Jim, who stood behind Paul, watching their entwined hands uncomfortably. “And you’re _okay_ with it? You don’t mind Paul’s in a relationship with me?” he asked the elder McCartney, his voice small and uncertain.

“I’ll be honest, John. I’m _not excited_ about this. I’m _not happy_ about it. It’s _not_ what I want for my son, such a difficult life, always hiding and lying, always being on guard, always afraid someone might find out, always afraid of being send to jail. And I won’t pretend that I _understand._ Because I don’t, not really. I can’t understand how a man can be in love with another man. But I _can_ see Paul loves you, and I _can_ see you love him. And who am I to stand in the way of love? I may not _like_ it, I may not fully _understand_ it, _but I do recognize love when I see it._ And love can _never_ be a crime, as far as I’m concerned.”

Jim sighed. “Like I’ve said, it’s not the life I’ve envisioned for Paul, but as long as you’re good to my boy, as long as you treat him like the rare piece of China he is, and don’t behave like a bull in a China shop, as long as you make him _happy, I will accept_ your relationship.” John nodded. “I promise I will do everything in my power to make your son happy.” “Then I welcome you to my family, son.”

John bit his bottom lip. Did Jim just gave him permission to be Paul’s partner? Did he just call him “son” and made him part of the McCartney family? He could hardly believe that Jim McCartney, usually such a conservative and slightly old fashioned man, who made no secret of the fact he always thought John was a bad influence on his precious son, accepted the fact that Paul was homosexual and in a relationship with him! He felt strangely moved by it.

And God, it was such a relieve! Not for himself, but for his lover. He knew Paul would have been devastated if his father would have rejected him. And he couldn’t lose the love and support of his dad right now, not with that difficult trial going on.

“Thank you so much for being so accepting, sir. I know how much this means to Paul. And since it’s important to _him,_ it’s important to _me.”_ John squeezed Paul’s hand and faced him with a tender smile on his face. “So everything’s alright, love?” Paul gave him one of his breathtaking Macca smiles. “Yes, Johnny, everything’s alright.” He kissed John’s cheek and grinned. “God, I’m so glad it’s out in the open now!”

“Gentlemen, dinner is ready!” Mimi, wearing her apron and an oven dish in her oven gloved hands, walked into the sunroom, startling the four men standing there. Somehow they had completely forgotten about Mimi. “I’m going to bring this to the dining room, so if you’ll all join me, we shouldn’t let the food get cold. John?” John let go of Paul’s hand like it burnt him. “John, come and set the table, will you dear?”

Mimi left the sunroom to go to the dining room. “I’ve made “Toad in the Hole” for tonight. Nothing like a good old traditional British dish after a difficult day, don’t you agree with me Mr. McCartney?” Jim followed her, nodding dutifully. “I completely agree with you Mrs. Smith.”

John and Paul looked at each other for a second before John walked after Mimi and Jim to set the table. Their relationship may be out in the open as far as Jim and Mike were concerned, but Mimi was still completely ignorant, so they still couldn’t show too much affection towards each other.

Paul lingered in the sunroom with Mike a little longer. “So how do _you_ feel about me and John, Mike?” he asked his brother softly. “I’ve actually known about it for some time, Paul. Maybe even longer than I’ve realized myself. And so I’ve already come to terms with it and accepted it. It still feels a bit weird, but I guess I’m alright with it, as long as it makes you happy. Although I _did_ look forward to becoming an uncle one day. Thought you would give me a couple of nephews and nieces. You've always talked about wanting lots of children one day. So that’s a real pity. And I will never get the chance to be best man at your wedding either. On the other hand, _having John Lennon as my “brother-in-law” is pretty cool!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, aren't we all releived Jim reacted so well? At least somthing has gone right for a change. But will the trial end in a victory for Paul? You'll find out in the next chapter.


	92. THE VERDICT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> Mimi says some hurtful things and that makes Jim realize something. And then the trial comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

They were sitting at the dining table, with Mimi’s “Toad in the hole” placed in the middle. It smelled delicious, and even though Paul’s mind was still in turmoil about everything that had happened that day (the difficult time in court, and his dad finding out about him and John), his stomach was growling. He hadn’t eaten that much the last couple of days, of course.

So he dug into his food with gusto and didn’t really engage in the conversation that was going on, until he heard Mimi say: ”I think they should all be locked up, those homosexuals. I can’t believe they’re actually talking about decriminalizing it. It’s unnatural and filthy. The thought of two men doing things together makes me shiver. It’s a crime and it should stay that way. But even if they do decriminalize it, and I hope they have the sense not to do so, eventually they will have to face God, and he’ll punish them for their sins.”

The men around the table had gotten very silent. John had put his knife and fork down and was clenching his fists, his face grim, his lips a thin, angry line. Paul looked at him with worried eyes, biting his bottom lip. “I agree with you up to a point, Mrs. Smith” Jim answered carefully, “It does seem unnatural, but what if two men really love each other? Should love be considered a crime?”

“My dear Mr. McCartney, two men can’t possible love each other! That’s not the way God has meant love to be. Men who say they love other men are sick in their heads! And since they engage in something that’s against the law, they should be put behind bars. They shouldn’t be allowed around others. What if it’s contagious? No, as far as I’m concerned it should stay illegal and they should put all those filthy men away.”

John stood up abruptly, causing his chair to fall backwards to the ground with a loud thud. “John! What are you doing?” Mimi looked at her nephew, startled. “I’m going to bed. I have a splitting headache.” Mimi shook her head. “It’s because you refuse to wear your glasses. All that squinting gives you a headache, I’ve told you that so many times, but you never listen.” “Yeah, whatever…..” John tuned on his heels and disappeared through the door with large, angry steps.

Paul watched him leave and then looked back at his plate again. Suddenly his appetite had completely vanished and the hungry grumble in his stomach was replaced by a nauseous feeling. Slowly he put his knife and fork down as he locked eyes with his father, sitting opposite to him. Should he go after John? Or would Mimi find it strange if he did so? His dad gave him a little nod.

“Maybe you should go to bed as well, Paul? You look rather pale. It’s been a long, difficult day and we’ll have to be in court again tomorrow to hear the closing arguments. Can’t have you falling ill now, can we? I’m sure Mrs. Smith will understand, won’t you Mrs. Smith?”

“Of course, of course. You need your rest, Paul. Your brother can help me clear the table after dinner, can’t you Michael? And Paul……try to convince John to start wearing his glasses. You’re probably the only one he’ll listen to. It’s so ridiculous not to wear glasses out of vanity.”

Paul stood up from the table, giving his dad a thankful nod. “I’ll try to talk to him about it, Mrs. Smi…..Mimi, but I’m not sure he’ll listen. So if you’ll all excuse me…….”

***

He found John sitting on the ground, leaning against the bed, legs pulled up against his chest and his head resting on his knees, sobbing softly. Paul sat beside him and pulled him in his arms. “It’s okay, Johnny, it’s okay…..” “No, it’s not okay, Paul. Didn’t you hear what she said? She called us filthy! She said we deserved to go to jail! It felt like being stabbed in the heart to hear her say that.” “I know, Johnny, I know. It hurts to hear somebody you love say those things.” He held John close, caressing his hair, softly rocking him back and forth, as John kept sobbing.

“Do you think that if we were to tell Mimi about us, she’d change her mind about homosexuality? I mean, dad had the same opinions about it, but he’s accepted that we’re together.” They were lying in each other’s arms on their bed, having moved there after sitting on the floor for some time. “I don’t think so, baby. With Mimi it’s also her religious believes, you know. According to the church we're living in sin. So to her, homosexuality is not only a crime, but a terrible sin as well. I don’t think she’ll ever be as accepting as your dad is. She would probably erase me from her life all together.”

John sighed. “It really surprised me, you know, your dad, being so accepting. I didn’t expect that at all. He even welcomed me to the family.” Paul ran his fingers through John’s hair, massaging his scalp the way he knew John loved. “Yeah, I always thought he’d hate me for it, would stop loving me. I’m so glad I was wrong about that. It’s really amazing the way he’s reacted. I mean, it must be quite a shock to find out your son’s homosexual. And Mike’s okay with it as well. If only Mimi would be able to see what we mean to each other…….”

***

After the closing arguments the next day, they had to wait for the Jury to come back with their verdict. Some of Maxwell Edison’s victims decided to wait in one of the waiting rooms at the Courthouse, others returned to their hotels, where they would be contacted as soon as the Jury came back. “I’ve got a feeling they won’t take long to return with a verdict” the Prosecutor told them. “I think they were all very moved by your stories, especially what Bonnie told them about her brother. And of course the story of someone as beloved as Paul made a deep impression as well. I feel very confident we’re going to win the case.” The three McCartney men, together with John and Brian, decided to wait at Cavendish.

There were lots of fans outside the gates of Cavendish, many more than usual. There had been dozens and dozens of them outside the Courtroom as well. Holding up signs and banners with “We love you, Paul!” and “Justice for Paul” and “We’ll stand by you, Paul”. It seemed like the fans supported him all the way, of which Paul was glad. He had feared there would be a backlash for him and the band after he told the world about being sexually abused, but so far there had been very little of that.

Some newspapers had published letters they had received from people writing he probably asked for it, and John had been absolutely furious about that, wanting to respond to those people, calling them all kind of names, but Paul had told him not to. “Let’s not lower ourselves to their level, Johnny. Let’s just ignore them.” As it turned out, lots of people answered to those letters in defense of Paul, calling those letter writers all kinds of names, so John didn’t have to do that himself. They still had the world on their side.

Mike made them all a cup of tea. “How are you doing, John?” Jim asked. “I saw how upset you were last night because of the things your aunt said.” John nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m okay. It just hurts, you know, words like that always do, but especially when they come from someone you love.” “It got me thinking” Jim said, turning to Paul. “I might have said some unfavorable things about homosexuals as well in the past, without realizing I was hurting you. I’m sorry if I caused you any pain, son.”

Brian looked from John and Paul to Jim and back. “Mind if I ask what you’re talking about?” “Dad knows about me and John.” Brian’s eyes widened. “He knows?” He then looked at Jim McCartney. “You know? And you’re still here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be here, Mr. Epstein? I’m supporting my son during this trial, so why would I leave?” “You’re not……you don’t find it…….it must have been a shock to find out your son is…….Are you okay with it?” “Okay is a big word, Mr. Epstein, but I’ve decided to accept it. As long as my boy is happy. I do worry about some things, though. Paul told me you know about him and John. I hope you do everything in your power to make sure nobody finds out about them?”

“Oh, I can assure you I do, sir. It would probably mean the end of their career if it became common knowledge. And I don’t want them to end up in jail. So I tell them all the time to be careful. I assume you won’t tell anybody about them?” “Of course I won’t! I don’t want them to end up in jail either. Paul’s been through enough already. But you know, if Mike and I were able to find out, others might see it too. And that’s very worrisome.” “Don’t worry, dad, John and I are always very careful when we’re in public.”

After their tea, John and Paul had just decided to go upstairs to the music room for a while, when the phone rang. It was the Prosecutor, telling them the Jury was coming back, so would they please make their way over to the Court as soon as possible?

Paul suddenly felt very nauseous and started to tremble all over. So this was it. He was going to find out if the man who caused him so much pain, fear and shame, the man who had driven him to suicide attempts, the man who caused him to have anxiety attacks and nightmares for years, whose behaviour had made it almost impossible for him to engage in a sexual relationship with John at the start of their life together, the man who had left such deep scars......he was going to find out if that man would go to jail for it.

“Are you alright , baby?” John’s arms were around his shoulders and he looked into his eyes with concern. His presence grounded him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit nervous, I guess.” He sighed deeply. “The moment of truth, right? So let’s go. I want to get this over with.”

***

Maxwell Edison was escorted into the Courtroom. Walking in, his eyes scanned the public tribune, wandering across the faces of his accusers and finally resting on Paul’s. His evil eyes made Paul shiver and he grabbed John’s hand for reassurance. Paul’s eyes then scanned the faces of the Jury, trying to find out what their verdict would be, but he couldn’t read their faces well enough. Although some of the women seemed to look at him with pity in their eyes.

“All rise!” Paul stood up mechanically, tightly holding on to John’s hand, as the Judge walked in. He felt himself trembling uncontrollably, until he felt his dad grab his other hand. Feeling grounded by the two men he loved the most in his life, he stopped trembling and sat down feeling stronger. He was ready to face this. Because no matter what the verdict would be, he knew he was loved. And nothing was more important than that.

Nevertheless, as soon as he heard the verdict “Guilty” come from the Jury foreman’s mouth, he released a breath he didn’t noticed he had been holding. He sighed deeply and a silent sob escaped his lips. There was cheering in the Courtroom and he heard John shout out a loud “Yes!” as he squeezed Paul’s hand. “Order! Order in the Courtroom!”

“Mr. Edison, you have been found guilty of sexually abusing minors who were in your care, by a Jury of your peers. I accept the Jury’s verdict and will come back with a sentence tomorrow. Members of the Jury, thank you for your duties. You are now dismissed. Court adjourned.” “All rise!”

After the Judge left the Courtroom, everybody started cheering again. People on the Public Tribune were congratulating each other, hugging each other, and Paul found himself in John’s arms. John hugged him tightly, whispering over and over again: “We won, baby, we won!” Paul hugged back just as tightly, repeating “It’s over, it’s really over!” until they heard Brian whisper: “Boys, watch it, please” which made them let go of each other.

Hugs from his dad, Mike and Brian followed, until he stood face in face with Tony. They looked at each other for a few seconds before enveloping each other in a big hug. “Thank you so much, Paul. He’s going to jail. It never would have happened if you hadn’t stepped up. Thank you so much!” Tony whispered in his ear. “No, no, I’m the one who has to thank you, Tony. If you hadn’t come forward, I would never had the courage to go to the police. You’re the one who set it all in motion. I’ll be forever in your debt. Thank you so, so much!”

***

“I heard the news on the radio! He’s been found guilty! You must be so relieved, Paul.” Mimi’s hug felt warm and sincere, as they arrived back at Kenwood to the smell of a roast in the oven. “I know it’s not Sunday, but I decided to make a real Sunday roast, the moment I heard the news. With roast potatoes and Yorkshire Pudding. And lots of gravy of course. This verdict definitely is a cause for celebration, don’t you think so?”

They had arrived at Kenwood in the early hours of the evening, after the Prosecutor had invited them all for a drink, all of Maxwell Edison’s victims and their families. But of course they had to face the press standing in front of the Court first. “What do you think about the verdict, Paul?” “Are you happy he’s been found guilty?” “What do you think the sentence will be?” “How long do you think he’ll be going to jail for?” Brian had fenced them all off, saying there would be an official statement after the sentencing tomorrow.

And now here he was, standing amidst his family and friends, since they all decided to come up to Kenwood, celebrating the victory: Brian, Ringo and Maureen, with little Zak in tow, George and Pattie, Neil with his girlfriend Suzy, Mal and Lily Evans, George Martin and his lovely new wife Judy, Geoff, alone, since he’d just broken up with his girlfriend. All of them congratulating him.

Part of him was happy to see them all, but another part of him had preferred to spend the evening in the small company of his dad, Mike, Mimi and John. Especially John. Lying in his arms preferably. Well nothing to be done about it. They were all here to support him and he should be grateful for it.

“The women have all helped me cook the dinner and it will be ready in a few minutes. So if you like to freshen up before dinner, you’d better hurry. If the other men would be so kind to move the garden table and chairs indoors and put them in the dining room? Otherwise there won’t be enough room for all of us to sit. And if the ladies can help me set the table?”

John smiled. Mimi was being her bossy self, ordering everybody around. “Let’s go change into something more comfortable, baby” he whispered in Paul’s ear. They disappeared upstairs and into their bedroom, where Paul fell backwards on the bed, arms and legs spread out. “Man, I’m tired.”

John sat next to him, and pushed some stray hair off his forehead. “What if I give you a nice massage tonight, bunny? To make you relax a bit?” “That would be lovely, Johnny. But first we’ll have to eat, otherwise Mimi will be offended. She _did_ go through all the trouble making us a Sunday Roast after all.”

***

They had only cuddled a bit, no sex, and Paul had fallen into a peaceful sleep after John’s massage. There had been no nightmares and he woke up feeling well rested. John was still sound asleep, looking as innocent as ever. It never ceased to amaze Paul how John could look like a true angel when asleep. He smiled. If people could only see his John like this.

He went for the shower and relished the hot water pouring down on his body. Today was the day. The day when he would finally hear how long his abuser would go to jail for. How many years would the Judge put him away for? How long would be long enough? Truth be told, Paul thought _no amount of time_ would be long enough. After all, he had to live with the memories of what had be done to him for the rest of his life.

But then again, _any amount of time_ would do. The most important thing was that he had been found guilty. Guilty for having hurt him and all the others. Knowing that it wasn’t his own fault, that _he_ didn’t do anything wrong; that was more important than the amount of time that bastard would serve.

Suddenly a pair of arms slipped around his waist from behind. John. “I’ll wash yours if you’ll wash mine” John’s husky voice whispered in his ear. It made Paul shiver, despite the hot water running down his body. He turned around in his lover’s arms and tenderly kissed his lips. “Hand me the shampoo then.”

***

They arrived at the Court House amidst what felt like hundreds of flashing cameras. “Paul! Paul? How long do you think he will get?” “How many years do you hope for, Paul?” “Are you happy he’s going to jail?” John had grabbed Paul’s wrist and pulled him toward the door, while Brian tried to keep the press at bay. “There will be a statement afterwards.”

And now there he was, sitting at the public tribune once again, waiting for Maxwell Edison to be brought in. When he entered the Courtroom, accompanied by two guards, his eyes found Paul’s and the look he gave him was so full of hate, it made Paul shiver. John squeezed his hand and whispered “Don’t let him get to you, baby.” Paul straightened his back. He wouldn’t let that bastard get to him. Not now, not ever again. “All rise!” The Judge entered the Courtroom. And Paul was ready. Ready to hear the Judge’s ruling.

“Maxwell Edison, you have been found guilty, by a Jury of your peers, for sexual abuse of ten minor boys who were in your care. Sexual abuse is always a very serious crime, but when it involves children, unable to defend themselves against an adult, it turns into a crime that is so hideous, it shakes the entire world. Children should always feel safe in the presence of an adult, especially when their parents have entrusted them to an adult who is supposed to take care of them. You have not only broken the trust the parents had in you, but you have brought tremendous pain and fear to their innocent children, boys as young as five years old, sometimes for years on an end, causing such immense trauma that they will carry the scars of it for the rest of their lives. Nothing can ever erase those horrible memories they have to live with.”

Paul squeezed John’s hand. He was biting is bottom lip. He knew the Judge was right. Nothing anybody could do, nothing anybody could say, no matter how long Maxwell Edison would be in jail, nothing would ever make the memories go away. The scars would always be there, lurking just below the surface. They would fade, because that’s what scars do, but they would never totally disappear. They would be part of him forever.

“For those hideous crimes you have to be punished to the fullest, for the peace of mind of your victims as well as to protect society from further criminal actions by your person. Our children need to be protected from animals such as you. If it were up to me, I would make sure that you’d be put away for life, but I do not have that option within the restrictions of the law, since the maximum sentence that the law allows in this case, is twelve years imprisonment.”

Paul felt his dad grab his other hand and squeeze it softly. “He’s going to get the maximum sentence, son” his dad whispered and Mike threw him an encouraging look. Paul directed his gaze to John for a moment, who squeezed his hand even harder and then to Brian, sitting beside John. Brian gave him a reassuring smile and nodded slightly.

“Therefore I sentence you to the maximum of twelve years imprisonment, without the possibility of parole. You’ll be taken from this Courtroom to Her Majesty’s Prison Belmarsh to serve your time. Court adjourned!”

Paul sighed deeply and blinked away some stray tears. Twelve years! John hugged him tightly but the words he spoke didn’t reach his mind. Twelve years! He was going to jail for twelve years! It was all over now, finally over......All around him people were cheering and congratulating each other. And suddenly dad and Mike and John and Brian were all around him, hugging him. He hugged back but his head was filled with only one thought: _it’s finally over!_

Maxwell Edison, his hands cuffed behind his back, was lead toward the door by his two guards. And as he passed Paul, the hatred in the man’s eyes chilled Paul to the bone. “You’re gonna pay for this!” the man hissed. “When you least expect it, you’re gonna pay for this, I promise you!” And a horrible thought pierced Paul’s brain: _It would never be really over...._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally justice for Paul! But there's not a lot of time to enjoy the victory, since there's an American tour waiting for them. A tour that might be their last one.....


	93. BIGGER THAN JESUS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul meet at school. Paul has a deep, dark secret that impacts his life immensly. And so it also impacts John's life. In a world that's very hostile towards their relationship, they try to find their way somehow, both privately as well as professionally. And that isn't always easy......The (fictional) story of John and Paul through the years.
> 
> John and Paul receive a phone call one morning. The aftermath of that phone call leaves John upset and Paul angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fanfic. It's an AU story that roughly follows the real life time line at first, but there's also a lot of artistic freedom. It's a slow burn story (because I like that a lot myself) and each chapter will contain somewhere between 2500 and 3000 words. I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe twice.
> 
> The title of this story comes from the lyrics of a song from Paul's Egypt Station album, Dominoes.
> 
> English is not my native language, so please don't hold grammatical mistakes and language errors against me.

“Please be careful how you and John act in public, son. Make sure nobody finds out about you two being together. I don’t want to see you end up in jail. Especially now you’re free of Maxwell Edison. I hope your American tour will be a good one. Please stay in touch, alright? See you soon, my boy.”

John and Paul waved goodbye to their houseguests. Mike had hugged them both and also warned them to be careful, before putting the luggage in the car. He was driving them all home, stopping along the way to drop Mimi off.

Mimi, still completely oblivious about their relationship, had hugged Paul goodbye as well, telling him once again how happy she was about his abuser going to jail. “And please make sure John doesn’t do anything stupid in America. Somehow he’s so prone to say the wrong things or act weird. But he always seems to listen to you. You’re a good influence on him, Paul. I’m glad he has you as a friend.” If she only knew……

***

They were awoken by the phone ringing. They were cuddled up in each other’s arms, deep asleep, after a night of passionate love making. In a few days time their American tour would start, and after everything that happened in Japan and especially in the Philippines, they weren’t exactly looking forward to it. Touring just wasn’t fun anymore, not like it used to be in the early days. “Let it ring, bunny” John whispered sleepily, as Paul started to get out of bed to pick up the phone. “If it’s really important, they’ll call back.” Paul, reluctant to leave John’s arms, decided his lover was right, and cuddled up to him again, kissing his temple. The phone stopped ringing.

A few minutes later it rang again, and Paul groaned. “I guess it is important then.” He loosened himself of John’s grip, and walked over to the phone. “Yeah?” “Paul? Why didn’t you answer the phone earlier?” “Still asleep, Brian, it’s early.” “It’s almost eleven, Paul, it’s not _that_ early! Can I talk to John, please?” “Not sure if he’s willing to get out of bed yet, I’ll check.” He looked at John who was shaking his head and miming “No, no, I’m still asleep!” “He says he’s still asleep.” “Well, if he’s capable of telling you that, he’s also capable of coming to the phone. Tell him I need to talk to him now!”

Brian’s voice was so stern, it made Paul frown. “Is something wrong?” he asked, a little worried. “Just get him on the phone, Paul.” Paul held out the receiver and gestured John to get out of bed. “He insists on talking to you.” John got out of bed, moaning and groaning, playfully hit Paul’s bare arse, and grabbed the receiver. “You’d better have a damned good reason to wake me up, Eppy. And you’d better tell me quickly, since I’m standing here besides a very naked, very gorgeous and very irresistible Paul McCartney, and I’m getting very horny right now.”

***

Brian had received a very disturbing telephone call that morning. Apparently some American magazine had printed a quote from John and it had made quite a stir in the States. Some radio stations refused to play any more Beatles songs, and had called for fans to burn their Beatles records! And their representatives in America had even received death threats directed at the band as a whole and at John in specific.

“It says you said the following:

> _“Christianity will go. It will vanish and shrink. I needn’t argue about that; I’m right and I will be proved right. We’re more popular than Jesus now; I don’t know which will go first – rock ‘n’ roll or Christianity. Jesus was all right but his disciples were thick and ordinary. It’s them twisting it that ruins it for me”_

It’s supposed to be from an interview with “The Evening Standard” John. Did you actually say that?”

“I did say something along those lines to Maureen Cleave last February? Or was it March? When those profile stories of us were published in “The Evening Standard”. But it’s completely taken out of context! And why does it suddenly pop up now in America, months later? Have there really been death threats?”

“Yes, there have been several, and in some southern states people have already been burning your records. They are very religious over there and feel very offended by your statement.” “But it’s totally out of context! Even though it’s totally true!” Brian sighed deeply. “We’re starting our US tour in less than two weeks time. This could become a real problem, John. Couldn’t you have kept your big mouth shut for once? Why would you talk about religion to a reporter anyway? Religion is always a controversial subject.”

“I’m bloody well entitled to talk about anything I want, Brian! Certainly when it’s totally true. Everybody knows it’s true! Nobody made a fuss about it when it was published over here months ago. So I don’t see why they do so in the States. It’s bloody ridiculous!”

“They have a very strong Bible-belt in the southern states, John. The Ku-Klux-Klan is from there, and they can be very menacing. This could really develop into something very serious and dangerous for the band. We might have to cancel the tour, because the threats may put you all in too much danger. We will lose a lot of money. But better to lose money than lose your lives. On the other hand, maybe there’s still time to turn the tide. So I want you to come over to the office straight away to work on a statement about this whole Jesus-thing. I’ll fly over to America next week for a press conference and read the statement. We’ll have to try to minimize the damage you’ve done.”

***

 _“Death threats?_ We’ve received death threats, John? Why? And what did you say that was taken out of context, but true?” Paul questioned John, who was now standing there, looking at the receiver in total disbelieve. “Something I’ve said about religion some time ago, you know, to Maureen Cleave? It’s apparently all over the news in the States, and they seem to be offended by it. The Ku-Klux-Klan has send us death threats.”

 _“The Ku-Klux-Klan?_ John, they are dangerous people! What did you say exactly? I don’t seem to remember.” “No, that’s just it! Nobody over here seemed to have been offended by it. I’ve said something about The Beatles being more popular than Jesus. Which is totally true! But apparently they don’t agree with me in the bloody Bible-belt, and now we’re in trouble. They’re even burning our records, it seems.”

 _“Burning our records?_ Like the Nazis were burning Jewish books? That’s bloody ridiculous! They can’t do that because of something you’ve said! There’s freedom of speech! The Americans are always on about the importance of the freedom of speech! And death threats? Is somebody looking into that? That’s a crime isn’t it? Threatening somebody? How serious are those threats? Enough for us to worry about?”

“I don’t know, Paul. I just know Brian wants me to come over to work on a statement to “minimize the damage I’ve done” so he said. We might have to cancel the tour otherwise, since it might be too dangerous for us to perform.” Paul looked grim. “So Brian thinks the death threats are very serious then. Bloody hell!”

“My words are putting you all in danger. I didn’t mean for that to happen! I’m so sorry, Paul.” John looked defeated and Paul walked over to him. He cupped John’s cheek with his left hand. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, John. You’ve got every right to speak your mind. I don’t think Brian should make you apologize for anything.” “But if I don’t apologize, we’ll all be in danger, baby. You will be in danger. I would never forgive myself if anything was to happen to you because of something I’ve said. Even though every word of it is true. Your life is a whole lot more important to me then freedom of speech, believe me.”

“Then we’ll just cancel the tour. You shouldn’t let yourself be silenced like this and you should tell Brian so. I’ll back you up all the way, Johnny.” “I’m not so sure George and Ringo will agree with you, baby. After all, they make most of their money from our touring, since they don’t receive song-writing royalties like we do.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand if we’ll explain things to them. We always back each other up, don’t we? So let’s get dressed and head over to the office.” “You don’t have to come with me, Brian only asked for me to come over.” “I don’t care. I’m coming with you anyway. We’re in this together, love. Now let’s get dressed. Your naked body is very distracting.”

***

Paul wasn’t allowed to enter Brian’s office. He had to wait outside with the secretary, while John had to face Brian and Alistair. Paul had argued with Brian, said he was backing John all the way and anything they would say to John they could say to him as well, but Brian wouldn’t let him in. “This is John’s doing, so he’s the one who has to put the record straight. It’s about time he’ll learn to take responsibility for the things he says and does, without you constantly defending him. He’s put you all in danger, you as well, Paul, by his mindless statement. So he’ll have to deal with the consequences himself. Now wait outside!”

So now Paul was pacing up and down the waiting area in front of Brian’s office, grumbling to himself that it was “bloody unfair” and “it wasn’t John’s fault” and “he’s free to speak his mind” and “he’s right about it, isn’t he?” and “he should blame those religious fanatics, not John”, until Freda begged him to sit down because she couldn’t do her work like this.

Paul was dying to get into Brian office, wanting to speak his mind, standing side by side with John, but Brian had been very clear he didn’t want Paul present, and his face had told Paul the man meant business. So he sat down and started biting his nails. Poor John. He hoped everything would be alright and that Brian wouldn’t be too harsh.

***

“You have endangered not only your life, but the lives of Paul, George and Richard as well. What if somebody decides to act on the death threats and takes a shot at you while you’re on stage? It’s bad enough already calling that danger off on yourself, but the others are in the line of fire as well. What if one of the others gets hurt? What if Paul gets shot? Could you live with that? Is your “freedom of speech” as you keep repeating, really more important than your safety? More important than your friends’ safety? Your friends who got nothing to do with all of this? More important than _Paul’s_ life?”

Brian and Alistair had been talking and talking, telling him he had to publicly apologize for his words. Telling him he’d be held responsible if something were to happen to the others. If Paul would get hurt. They’d gone on and on about it, blaming him for all the trouble they seemed to be in right now and making him feel guilty. And God, of course he didn’t want to put anybody in danger, most certainly not Paul.

But he had the right to speak his mind, didn’t he? He did nothing wrong! Why should he apologize for speaking his mind, for saying something that so obviously was true? It wasn’t his fault those religious fanatics couldn’t handle the truth! How could he possibly apologize when he wasn’t in the wrong?

They kept telling him he had to, though, that he had to think about the safety of the others. Kept telling him that he was totally selfish if he denied to apologize for his words. That his right to speak his mind seemed more important to him than the safety of his friends. That he was willing to put them all in danger just so he wouldn’t have to retract his words. That he was willing to put Paul’s life on the spot, instead of accepting defeat. Didn’t he care about _Paul_ at all?

And of course he cared about Paul! He didn’t want him to get hurt! Nor the others for that matter. But it all felt so wrong! They had written a statement in his name and wanted him to approve it. But he didn’t agree with any of it. They kept telling him, however, how selfish he was, that his actions would get them all killed. Would get _Paul_ killed. Brian kept emphasizing he would get _Paul_ killed.

John didn’t want to put Paul in danger and felt very guilty, even though Paul had told him he wasn’t to blame for any of this. He felt guilty about endangering Paul, but at the same time so angry for not being able to speak his mind! And it hurt him Brian thought he didn’t care about the lives of the others. Because he did. Of course he did! But it was so unfair!

In the end he got so frustrated, he felt so powerless, so put up on the spot, that he broke down, started crying and agreed to the statement Brian would read at a special press conference, as well as apologizing in person himself, when they arrived in America for their tour. He was totally ashamed for his breakdown, but he couldn’t help it. So much for his tough demeanour.

***

Paul was so angry. Brian had reduced his John to tears. Had forced him to apologize for something he didn’t need apologizing for. He had seen the tracks of tears on John’s face as he left Brian’s office and told Paul he wanted to go home straight away.

And when, on their way back home, John told him about the meeting, sobbing throughout his account, Paul just wanted to turn around, drive back to Brian’s office and give him a piece of his mind. But John told him there was no use in talking to Brian about it, and he just wanted to go home.

And now John was lying on the couch in a foetal position, Pyramus nestled on his feet, Thisbe on the armrest, and he looked absolutely miserable. And Paul was angry. Brian had forced John, _blackmailed_ John into retracting his words, by telling him he endangered all of their lives if he didn’t, and had reduced him to tears. He had told John to apologize publicly, which would be absolutely humiliating! Nobody had the right to treat John like that!

He had settled down on the comfy chair across from the couch, feeling defeated. Martha seemed to sense something was wrong and came over to him, pressing her wet nose to his hand. It comforted him, and he absentmindedly stroke her head. “What a mess our lives have become, Martha. I wish we could just cancel the whole bloody tour. I don’t feel like going over to America at all, if that’s the way they act over there. I always thought America was the land of opportunities and freedom, but instead they’re so narrow minded. Well, I guess not all Americans are like that, but still.....”

He sighed. They were leaving for America in ten days, and George and John had already expressed their wish to stop touring after this tour. And he knew Ritchie was inclined to agree with them, already upset with the threats made against them in Japan and The Philippines. He had a family to think of, after all. And even though Paul had been shaken by the whole Philippines debacle, the thought of not performing live anymore, was something he had not been able to accept yet. He loved performing after all, loved the direct interaction with his audience. But right now, he was reconsidering his opinion. Maybe it really _was_ time to stop touring.

“Johnny? Johnny, shall I make us something to eat? It’s getting late.” “Don’t bother with me, Paul, I’m not hungry.” “I understand that, love, but you’ve got to eat something. We never got around to eating lunch, since Brian so rudely ordered us to his office.” “Ordered _me,_ Paul. He ordered _me_ to come to his office. Because I had to open my big mouth and put you all in danger. You didn’t have to come.” “Johnny, like I’ve already told you, you did nothing wrong, and I’m on your side. We’re in this together, love, don’t for a minute think you’ll have to handle this alone. Now let me just scramble some eggs, make us some toast and we’ll eat.”

***

Paul was spooning John. They had showered together, the warm water taking away some of the tension from their bodies and had gone to bed. John still was very subdued, and once again expressed how guilty he felt about putting Paul in danger. “I’ll never forgive myself if anything were to happen to you, baby. You shouldn’t pay the price for my mistakes.”

Paul sighed again. “You didn’t make any mistakes, Johnny. You have every right to speak your mind about anything you want to. It’s those religious fanatics that are at fault, not you. And for what it’s worth: I totally agree with you. We are more popular than Jesus. Less and less people go to church these days. That’s not an opinion, it’s a fact. And I’m sure that if you’d ask teenagers who they prefer, Jesus or the Beatles, I think we’ll win by a landslide. You just pointed out what’s out there for everybody to see, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I think young people rather listen to the things we sing about, than to the things that are written in the Bible. And since we sing about love, I think there’s nothing wrong with that. Our message is a good one. And we shouldn’t let anybody keep us from spreading our message of love. So don’t let anybody tell you that you did something wrong.”

“And maybe you should apologize publicly to take away the death threats, so we can perform safely, but only for that reason, and that reason alone. Not because you were wrong in saying what you said. And I’ll be by your side, holding your hand. Underneath the table of course.”

Paul kissed John’s hair and his hand wandered across John’s belly and further downwards. He chuckled. “And for what it’s worth, Johnny boy, I’m sure a certain body part of yours actually _is_ bigger than Jesus!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then their American tour starts....

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave comments!


End file.
